After introducing my mother to some random guy I was dating when I was in my early 20s, she proclaimed without skipping a beat: “If you end up with him I’ll throw myself off the Verrazano.” (For those who don’t know: the Verrazano is the gigantic bridge that joins Long Island to Staten Island.).
Never one to mince words and a bit of a Tiger Mom (A Finnish/American/freckle-faced Tiger Mom? Maybe a Eurasian Badger Mom?), we had been butting heads since I was a mere tween. During a heated phone call she told me that he “had no aspirations” (true), “didn’t look anyone in the eye” (true), and just “seemed bizarre” (must be stated with a proper Lawn Guyland accent: bizaaaaw).
Like any sane 22-year-old, I moved in with him the following week.
Two months later we broke up, and he moved out.
DAMN HER FOR BEING RIGHT! WHY WAS SHE ALWAYS RIGHT? I agonized over this through my teens and twenties, and only recently accepted her awesomeness as I also became a mom superhero. What is it about mothers that make them always just KNOW? Is it some sort of special parenting juju? It must be agonizing to watch your children make such shitty choices and know that they’re not going to listen to a word you say.
“What? You don’t think I’m going to marry the tool who was so drunk he broke the soap dish off the wall? Screw you!” (She was right.)
“You don’t think it’s a good idea for me to ditch being a math major to become an art major? You think it’ll be hard to get a job? Screw you!” (She was right.)
“No, I’m not bringing that nerdy wallet because I will not get mugged while studying abroad. I’m not an idiot. Screw you!” (She was right.)
“I can totally wear this to an interview. Screw you!” (She was right.)
“Excuse me?! No, that’s not my bowl. Why would you even THINK that?! Screw you!” (She was right.)
Only recently, after assessing the past 35 years of my life have I come to truly realize her powers and actually begin to heed her advice. Sure, she can be painfully, terrifyingly, insert foot-in-mouth blunt: but it’s coming from a good place… and she ALWAYS ends up being right.** I can only hope that someday LJ learns to appreciate my super know-it-all-ness, preferably before age 35.
**My mother is actually NEVER RIGHT when it comes to her choice in presidential candidates.
**Also, when recently asked by her grandchildren to name the continents, she replied, “Oh, you mean A, E, I, O and U?” which is, clearly, not even REMOTELY fucking close to the answer.
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