Sponge mom

I took my mother to the Festival of Trees yesterday, very pretty, lots of lights, I did kind of wish they had a cash bar next to the museum gift shop, but oh well. I was there to photograph trees, kids, etc. for my next story. Of course, the PR person, we will call him Tom, is there, showing us around. Nice guy, I could spot the latent, dark humor in his face. After a few minutes of chatting, he says he has a 2-year-old daughter and so began one of my favorite topics of conversation among the "inner sanctum" of parents the world over.
Poop.
And so, in between taking darling shots of third graders ooohhhing and aaahhhing at the trees, we talked shit. After we left the museum, I turned to my mom and whispered, "He's one of us." She nodded. It's an emotional moment when you discover that there are others out there. Just like you, with your same fascination with bootlegged scripts, bourbon, Martha Stewart mommy's waiting to explode, apocalyptic diarrhea...you get the point.
After the museum run, we took a detour to the nearly abandoned mall. I go to the mall to people watch, and today was nothing short of a friggin' spectacle. The food court provided the most material. We split a $5 sub, and as we are crouched over our "halves" I am watching a group of four obese women, friends clearly, pound back ice cream. Lots of ice cream from the smoothie station. It was 45 degrees outside, I'm thinking more that hot chocolate or coffee would be good, but no, ice cream. My mom saw my face.
"It's definitely a pandemic," she said. "And clearly, none of these people have jobs."
So why are they at the mall? Spending money? Why am I at the mall? Philosopher's questions without a doubt....
As Boni was about to take a bite of her sandwich, a giant piece of chicken jumped out, bounced off her lap and landed directly at my booted foot. I stared at her for a full second.
"Now I know why you're so thin."
And that was it. The rest of the afternoon was a series of giggle fits punctuated by cruel language and awful jokes. One saleswoman couldn't hear very well, thank god.
A good day, followed by picking Anna up at rehearsal, part deux. She is miserable this week and I told her that I was considering putting her on ebay if she didn't cut the shit. She just shrugged her shoulders.
"Totally illegal, Mom. Besides, Nana would buy me and bring me back, and then I'd be really pissed."
For dinner, potatoes and a ton of other shit in the crockpot and teenie little chicken strips seasoned with a few nearly petrified lemons and cayenne. Nice.