The conversation started off simple enough. She was talking about how she was nostalgic, and started buying things that she grew up with. An ice cream maker, a popcorn maker, etc. She talked about how she thought that they were simpler, and that she was worried that she might be getting simpler. When I mentioned that I would equate it to nostalgia, my mother started questioning whether or not she was having a midlife crisis.
My father, trying to be supportive, said that she didn't really need to have one. My mother in turn stated, "But I want one." Now let that sink in. While most people try to avoid a crisis, my mother has started to actively seek one out. Her argument is that it justifies her being bat-shit crazy. Why does she need justification after all these years? Fuck if I know. All I know is she's looking to justify it.
In turn, my mother started to think of things she could do to have a crisis. For whatever reason, this Jewish woman thought, "What if I joined a convent?" Of course, logic dictates that joining a convent is not that practical. Never mind the whole "Jew in a Convent" thing. No, the first problem is wearing the habit. After all, those could be hot.
(For the record, everyone knows that I get that awkward sweat. Guess who I get it from? My mother. That's right. It's genetic. She was talking to me about it in Chili's one day. She said that it comes from her mother's side of the family. We sweat and we have big butts. Upon hearing that, my father loudly started singing, "I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE! YOU OTHER BROTHERS CAN'T DENY!"
After he did that, we determined that I was going to die from laughter, my mother was going to die from embarrassment, and my father was going to die from my mother. But I digress...)
Because the habit would be so hot, my mother figured she would not do well with it. And you know that convents don't have heat or air conditioning. She also realized that the habit would likely squish her face. But can she adjust it to make her face look natural? No! That's vanity and that's a sin! Why? Because Jesus.
The other problem with the convent is that she would have to smuggle my father in. Evidently nuns don't look favorably on men in the convent. Who knew?
On a plus, though, my mother would have front row seats to see Pope Frankie (that's how she likes to call him). She also likes crossing herself (yes, a Jewish mother likes to cross herself. It happens.)
I suggested she could get a tattoo. My mother countered that with concerns about finding a place and type of tattoo that would look good with wrinkled skin. (On a side note, I have a large tattoo on my chest. Once my skins starts to sag into man boobs, or "moobs", I plan to just flip each moob up and staple it. I'm calling it the poor man's breast implant. Such a terrible idea...)
So ruling out the tattoo and convent ideas, my mother started to research what a proper midlife crisis should look like. Insert Wikipedia:
Now there are important things to note about the Wikipedia link for a Midlife Crisis.
- The age ranges from 45-60 years old. This is good for my mother, because she still has approximately 5 years to flip shit. That's good!
- A midlife crisis for men is approximately 3-10 years, while it is 2-5 for women. That's right, gender inequality is so rampant in the world that men are allowed to freak the fuck out for twice as long as women. Why? Because fuck equal rights. 'Merica.
- Different genders have different manifestations of their crisis. Men typically buy cars and sleep with younger women. Women, typically focus on what their role is in life. That's right. Men get to buy shiny new toys and hump them, while women get to meditate. Why? Because women would have to have equal pay to afford a car, and c'mon, that'll never happen. And plus, if men didn't turn into sluts during a midlife crisis, half those girls would never have the money to quit dancing and become a trophy. Yes, I am suggesting that the young girls that sleep with midlife crisis men are gold diggers. Even if they aren't, I would be shocked if the men actually cared what the women had to say. "What? Oh yes, that is a wonderful selfie, Sparkle. What are your thoughts on climate change? Why yes, it is snowing. I guess your right, we should make a snow angel. I'm so glad to be dating someone young and hip, like my daughter"
Did that just get weird? Good. Because it's fucking gross. Men, keep it in your pants. Women, I don't know what to say. Y'all are screwed by the system. On a side note, someone will probably read this and say, "But we're in a committed relationship!" Well you know what? Mazel tov! Also, fuck you. I'm striving for humor and satire.
Anyway, that was what we learned form Wikipedia. After reading that, my mother started to look at her life and question if there was anything she wanted to change. Her only regret is to have never tried tap dancing. To have that as an only regret is pretty fucking great. I mean, most people have more regrets. "I wish I dated that one girl.", "I wish I did not date that boy", "I wish I had followed that one career path.", "I wish I used birth control". Whatever it is, people have regrets. To only regret not trying one single hobby? Spectacular.
As my mother continued to read through the various options for a midlife crisis, my father mentioned that her "mini" midlife crisis happened 6 months before her last birthday. My mother, disappointed, responded, "But I didn't buy a car." My father immediately said, "Well of course not; you're not a guy."
After about 5 minutes of laughter, we finished our lunch and started shopping for books. Moral of the story: My mother wants a midlife crisis, but she can't buy a car because she's not a guy. Oh, and evidently my father likes big butts?
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