Sloppy Drinkers

We all know them. It's the guy who'll slosh you with red wine when you're wearing a white linen blouse. It's the woman who will tell you every dirty detail of her sex life and then will be mortified the next day. It's the teenager who swears he or she has never touched a drop but spends an inordinate amount of time cleaning the car the next morning.

I am not passing judgement. Wild Bill taught me that drunk dialing is one of the most fun activities. I have done it. I usually call my mother and she is mortified. Like all activities, drunk dialing has some rules:

You must call someone you love. You must tell them over and over again that you love them.
You must call at a weird time. Waking them is preferable.
You must pass the phone around so they can talk to total strangers.

I don't do this any more. My mother is probably relieved.

But, I still live with a sloppy drinker. She wears a collar and embodies destruction on steroids. You won't find her with a glass of red wine but I highly recommend not wearing white or anything linen if you come to my house.

A Mom Moment

Living with the oldies meant talking to the Belle all the time. She would just wander into my office. Most communiation with my mother is by phone or email. Last week we cracked each other up by counting phone calls. We didn't say "hello," we said, "This is my number six phone call today."

My mother is my harshest critic. She's allowed. We find it funny because I welcome it. She programmed me well. Plus, she's usually right so I've learned to pay attention.

On the flip side, she can be fiercely protective. If someone is treating me like dirt, she will be on my side yet, she expects me to fix it. She may give wise advice. She may provide counsel. She won't fix it for me.

I can run to her and become a crumbling heap. She'll scoop me up and tell me she loves me. She expects me to stand tall.

My spine is a little stronger after every conversation with my mother -- even when we get snarly. I want to stand tall. I want to do it for me and I don't want to let her down.

Sometimes it takes six or seven conversations in one day to get the message through to me.