My Mother … And Me.

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I was waiting for a bus with my mother after we’d been shopping and it was at that time of day when the older generation are out and about. Now. My mother is obviously a pensioner and, as such, has some of the obligatory traits – spontaneous deafness, an unerring ability to stand right in the way and a bat-like sonar system that allows her to smash her shopping trolley into my shins – I’m sure you get the picture.

However, she has always had and manages to retain an ability to flirt charmingly with the opposite sex. By her side, I feel somewhat of a galumphing idiot, in my younger days notable only to men for my ability to drink most of them under the table and my astonishing breadth and knowledge of swear words…oh the benefits of a private education…

Needless to say I am not a flirt. I have never mastered the art of blushing delicately and peeping coyly upwards through my eyelashes, fingers fluttering at my throat… Nah. I’m far more likely to sneeze and fall over.

This particular day, as we were walking towards the bus stop, my mother and I both happened to notice a smartly dressed man, dark hair, beard (just my type) talking on his mobile. As we passed him, he lifted his head from the screen, breathed in ostentatiously and said: “Ladies – somebody smells nice!”

We both turned to look – oh yes, he was even nicer close up – and my mother blushed prettily. I highly doubted it was me since I was lightly scented with my usual blend of cat food and bleach, perhaps with overtones of patchouli essential oil from where I had knocked the diffuser over and tried to mop it up with a sock that I was wearing.

Looking up at this man, head fetchingly on one side, my mother said: “Oh it’ll be me! ‘White Diamonds’,” giving him one of her dazzling smiles.

Oh, I’ll remember that!” he replied and walked on, with a smile of his own.

My mother grinned to herself, serene in the knowledge that she still had “it” while I inelegantly hauled her shopping trolley onto the bus, managing to tread on my own foot in the process. The man (of course) got on the same bus as us and winked at Mum as he sauntered down the bus to a seat, while I was attempting to stuff a frozen pizza in a shopping bag and swearing as the cat treats emptied themselves with malice aforethought into my handbag…

The man settled himself into a seat just in my eyeline and the bus set off – the journey itself is worthy of a separate post – and when we reached her stop, Mum got off in a ladylike fashion as the man waved at her…

Oh well. Clutching my cat food, pizzas and a packet of lily of the valley bulbs that had burst and was shedding its powdery compost gently over me, I lurched out of my seat and stumbled off the bus, only to sneeze and fall over…

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20 thoughts on “My Mother … And Me.

  1. I was drinking tea as I read this — a very dangerous thing to do when I’m reading your blog! Your reference to sneezing and falling over made me burst out laughing, prompting suspicious and bemused looks from Mr. G. I am one of those sneezy, tottering types: decidedly ungraceful, clumsy and accident-prone, and NEVER the focus of flirtatious comments. And my mother … well, she’s 89, hobbit-sized, as sweet as pie, and adored by everyone. When I’m with her — hauling groceries, walkers and transport chairs from my trunk [boot], red-faced, sweating and cursing like a sailor – I’m invisible and my mom gets all the attention. People love her! In my case, the apple falls very, very far from the tree. Sigh. 🙂 🙂 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Lol, so pleased I am not alone, my fellow sneezer and faller! My mother is tiny and graceful, evokes the protective instinct in every man she meets when she is actually as hard as nails, as fierce as a tiger and only the other day dragged home a large plank of wood she had found in a skip to make a shelf..as you say, apple and tree! 🙂💕xxx

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautiful photograph. The use of Charlie’s paws is exquisite! Cherish your mum – and all of her weirdness – one day she won’t be with you. Then you’ll be stuck in Joni-Mitchell-Big-Yellow-Taxi hell….. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  3. “…notable only to men for my ability to drink most of them under the table and my astonishing breadth and knowledge of swear words” – Sounds like we could have been sisters in our younger years! Your mother sounds like a force of nature. I always feel bulky, clumsy and generally all over the place when I’m around people like that, so calm and put together and able to flirt with the best of them. But at the end of the day, I’ve become proud of my ever expanding and increasingly useful swearing vocabulary, as you should be too 😉
    Caz xx

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Lol – thank you very much Caz! I am proud to say I know some truly HORRIBLE swears that would make even a seasoned Marine pale…!

      And I think to myself wistfully…one day I will be that dainty older lady who has doors opened for her etc…instead of a wild-haired nutter running down the road shouting “F#@k off!” at a wasp chasing me…😸💕xxx

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Loved your entertaining post. 😀
    Some women, like your Mum, just have “it” in spades. The rest of us, myself included, will continue to stumble over invisible objects. Fortunately it takes all sorts, so there is hope! 😀

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Samantha! I love you already! You are quite charming, natural, witty, and endearing! What’s not to love in you? Let’s just put it this way, the right man will be attracted to you …. for he will be drawn to the very lovely qualities that you inherently possess. STAY BE-YOU-TIFUL!!! ❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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