"Oh Mom!" Moments

The other day, my friend and I were discussing Egypt and it's ancient ways and slavery and such things. (We talk about deep things, my friend and I.) The subject of Joseph from the Bible came up and I wanted to respond to my friend's comment with something intelligent sounding. But for the life of me I could NOT remember the name of the man Joseph had been a slave to. I was in the car with my mom while my friend and I were having this discussion over text message, so naturally I asked "Mom, who was that guy Joseph worked for?" Because, duh. Moms know everything, right?

"Potiphar." was her instant answer, because my mom is so clever and smart and remembers all these things...most of the time. I happily continued typing my text, but then stopped and stared at my phone for a long time. Then...

"How do you spell Potiphar?" Now, you must know, my mother is not and never has been good at spelling anything! She even practiced spelling her last name, and to this day has to spell it in her head any time she's writing it. (Both maiden and married last names) Sometimes you'll even hear her do it out loud. Haha! So when I voiced my questions, I wasn't actually expecting an answer. What I got was an immediate "P-o-t-t-i-f-e-r." 

That sounded right but I couldn't believe it so I HAD to check. And as you can plainly see, no. Pottifer is NOT how you spell the man's name. I told her and she laughed then said as seriously as possible "Well, that's the King James. Mine is the New American Standard."

Laundry Mishaps

Half way through my first semester of college, Mom decided she wanted to send me a care package. She called me up and asked me what I wanted. I gave her a simple list. I want Mexican Candy. And my Disney Princesses Towel.

I know what you're thinking... Yes, I'm 22 and still love that towel, thank you very much! =)

I waited excitedly for the next week and a half, waiting for my package filled with care. Finally... FINALLY... after two weeks, I got a notice in my P.O. Box that my package awaited me! If you can picture the moment when you were the most excited you've ever been in your whole life, then you'll know how I felt when I got that box. It hardly made it to my room before being ripped open like Christmas!

My roommates can tell you better than I the look of shock and borderline horror that covered my face when I opened it and the first thing I saw was my beautiful towel... My white, princess ballet towel, with Cinderella and Aurora and Snow White and Belle... My beautiful treasure... BLUE!

After going through the rest of the things (a really pretty mug, my very own hot pot, lots of food and candy, instant coffee. All AWESOME surprises) I called my mom. She answered "Ashley! Hi!!! Did you get your box???"

"It's Blue..." I answered flatly. Mom's only response was a bashful "Oh... yeah..."

She had been in a hurry to add it to the box after forgetting I'd requested it, and had thrown it in the wash with a load of jeans. Dark... Blue... Jeans... I'll never forget the sound of her voice as she apologized over and over again and all I could do was laugh! So like my mom! I sent her a mug and tons of thanks in return and am happy to say she still uses that mug to this day as her favorite fall time treasure. And yes, my towel is still blue...

Whistle While You Work

Mom has always been the type of person to sort of...get lost in her own head. She has such an active imagination that it never really shuts off. For example, as early as I can remember, we've always had to repeat things to her several times because the first time she won't actually be listening. She'll be too lost in thought. But that could happen to anyone, you say, right? Well, another example is that a lot of times Mom will randomly start to laugh to herself. For no reason whatsoever! It's because she thought of something funny or remembered something interesting. It's kinda like...she has whole conversations with herself in her own head. My brother does the same (on a more verbal level). I personally think it has something to do with their A.D.D. but that may be just me. I also think, though, that her imagination is part of why I became so interested in writing. So I can't complain when I have so much to thank it for. Haha.

One example of how she has always been spacey... One day while Mom was in grade school (She's told me this story many times so I'll retell it as best I can. Obviously I wasn't there...) the teacher was rearranging all the students and their desks and she decided to sit sweet little Sara right next to the window. Now she tried to tell the teacher that this wasn't a good idea, but the teacher didn't listen. Little Sara always got in trouble for not paying attention. She'd spend hours upon hours of their class time staring out the window imagining all sorts of adventures. On this particular day, she was imagining herself playing outside. It was a beautiful sunny day and there were all sorts of things she could think to do. Only days prior she'd learned to whistle, so in her imagination she skipped through the grass, whistling away to the birds and the trees and herself. It wasn't until the teacher was right in her face yelling at her that she snapped back to reality and looked up in time to hear the teacher say "Sara! We do not whistle in class!" You can imagine the teacher must have been fuming. Here she's trying to teach a bunch of second graders math or science or something and there goes Sara. Whistling away to herself for all the world to hear!

To this day, Mom will swear she had NO idea she was whistling out loud. =)