A Quarter Life Crisis

Over the weekend Wander and I spent some quality time together. It was nice. Since purchasing the poochie, Sasha, for my mom she’s been less aggressive with her phone calls. In the past I would get 3-4 random calls per day from Wander for no reason. Sometimes she would just call to say she called earlier but I failed to answer. I‘d follow up by asking her the reason for her earlier call to which she normally replied that she just wanted to know if I was awake.

Did I ever tell you that I hate when people call my phone and the first question asked is if I’m awake. This comes from the world o’ Wander folks.

Not to mention the benefit of not having her call continuously for any arbitrary purpose has actually reinforced my want to speak with her. As I am recapping this sentence in my head it almost sounds like I dislike my mom, to the contrary I totally heart Wander….in doses. There is an uneasy balance between mothers and daughters and I think we’re finally approaching just the right amount of oil and water. It’s a refreshing surprise because she’s not annoying the hell out of calling me so often so I’ve actually opened up much more in particular sharing my dating situation. Suddenly we’re more like old friends rather than caged WWE wrestlers in a ladder match for the belt (not that I watch this nonsense-OK maybe when I was little but only because the man Wander married made me). Not that we ever had any fist fights…OK there was that one time when Wander jumped from behind a door all covert ninja style but no one was hurt during that mini altercation.

I’ve said all that to say that over the weekend Wander shared a tid-bit of information with me that left me a touch perplexed. OK at first I did burst out laughing but then as I thought a little further of the implications of said comical story I was not comfortable with it.

Last Sunday Granny SJ was at church and noticed that one of the deacons, who conveniently calls my Grans by a pet name only my Grand Daddy used needed a lift home because his normal chauffer didn’t attend service. All seems well and good right.

I am still a bit uneasy with said deacon’s reckless abandon and calling of Granny SJ by the term of endearment reserved for my Grand Daddy but I am digressing.

As church ended and the elders of the flock frolicked outside, mostly gossiping about who didn’t pay his/her tithes and why the young folks don’t get dressed to come into the house of the Lord one of the ladies asked the Deacon if he was alright on getting home since his normal escort of sorts was out of commission.

The Deacon replied: Don’t worry about it Granny SJ’s riding me!

If you didn’t chuckle at this part in the story please re-read the last line and put on your inappropriate slang sexual act hat, this might help.

Granted when Wander relayed this story to me I laughed. Actually I laughed till I cried because it tickled me so much that one people over 60 actually use the slang term ride for….er you know what I’m saying and two that well no just one really! Granny SJ must have gotten a kick out of it as well since Wander reports that both she and my grandmother laughed a bit about Grans riding the Deacon. I just hope this ride isn’t going down on church property.

And here’s where I am uneasy. Is the Deacon trying to put the moves on Granny SJ? Oh I don’t like that at all. I do recognize that we all need companionship but my Grand Dad’s passing is very fresh for me and I presume it is fresh for everyone else. Sometimes I walk into Granny SJ’s house and can still smell my Grand Dad’s lingering cigarette or total recall hugging him before leaving the house and how his lip whiskers tickled my cheek. I am ginormously opposed and soooooo not remotely ready for some weird Deacon to sit in my Grand Pop’s chair, nope not ready at all. So as for the riding, the Deacon needs to go back with whatever other lady of the church was riding him and leave my Grans out of it completely.

That is my opinion and I’m sticking to it!