"HURRY UP! YOU ARE MISSING CHRISTMAS!!!"
As we co-cooperatively prep our Danish feast on Christmas Eve, in the midst of chortle and singing along with Elvis's Christmas album, Mom notices that her slip is showing.
"Uh-oh," she says. "It's snowing down south."
"That's what we always said in high school if your slip showed."
What's great about Mom is that she is kind-hearted, loud and just the right amount of goofy. She is a person who uses phrases from Simcoe County in the 1960s, not with irony, but as a way to keep traditions alive. A small town girl, born and bred - she has travelled the world, viewing it with open-minded and accepting eyes, and she chose to return to wallow in small town once more. She says things like "Look on the bright side," and "Every cloud has a silver lining," and MEANS them. She chooses to embrace the happy.
When David wrapped Rissa's ridiculous squishy, illuminated bear on Christmas Eve, my Mom almost peed her pants she giggled so madly.
"Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!!! It's so silly! SO silly!!!! I need one! I NEED one!!"
"Do NOT wake Rissa up!!"
(stifled giggles as she whacks it against the arm of the sofa...) "It's just so silly! hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!!!" she now whispers, holding a finger to her lips - showing just how quiet she is being.
While we played Monopoly before bed, she knocked over a wine glass ... "It's okay! No drops went on the carpet because they are ALL... in my... TUMMY!" (pat, pat, pat - indicating safe placement of wine)
I love my parents. Not only do I choose to spend time with them - I revel in that time. I revel in all my Dad's bad puns and my Mom's fist-pumping after she's won a game of Perquacky. I'm 44 years old - snuggling with my Mom on the couch remains a perk. She still kisses me on the forehead the way I kiss Rissa. I see more and more of myself in her cackle and crazy.
We had them for all of 47 hours over the holidays. Then it was time to go, we were lucky that they weren't waiting at the door on Boxing Day when we got up that morning. If my Dad doesn't have tasks, he might implode. We wave from the door as they honk the car horn. My Mom blows wild kisses from her car window.
"Boy it's a good thing you like my Mom," I say to David.
"'Cause you know that I am going to turn into her."
"I'm down with that."