Classic Gems

My mother, bless her heart, has some classic gems in her everyday speech that my siblings and I cherish because they’re so, well, damn funny.  For instance (and please imagine that this is all being said in Spanish):

Situation 1: We’re approaching an intersection and, just when we think we’ll make it, it suddenly turns yellow and then red.  My mother, annoyed, will cross her arms and scowl, saying, "It’s because we’re Mexican."  The image of guys at a sort of highway traffic control switching the signals to not let us through simply because we’re Mexican is hilarious.  It’s even more hilarious when you realize that these guys would have to have great vision to see inside of our car and realize we are Mexican.

Situation 2: We pass a house that has a ton of cars parked outside.  We could be a few doors down from our house, we could be in a different town completely.  My mother will always harrumph and say, in quite an indignant tone of voice, "And precisely why didn’t they invite us?  What gumption."  Peals of laughter or eye-rolling will ensue within the car.

Situation 3: My mother has once again made some odd Mexican dish that I can’t stomach (I am a picky eater, but I am also quite capable of making my own dinner, so no worries on this end as to how I’ll eat).  When I inform my mother, quite politely, that I don’t like said dish, she’ll grunt and stomp her foot, saying "Yes, you like it."  It’s much funnier in Spanish, but it’s still funny when you think, "Wow, revisionist history at work here."  Kind of like that time she stuffed bleu cheese down my throat when I was seven – thank God I can get away now.

Situation 4: I will return from some work or social function.  My mother will proceed to ask how it went, what happened, how much fun or annoyances I had.  I will oblige her, answering what I can.  She’ll then ask, "And did they tell you you’re pretty?"  I’ll then snort and say no, because that’s just not what happens in everyday life – people simply don’t walk around telling each other they’re pretty.  That’s weird.  Besides, I know I am (Snot alert!  Snot alert!).  My mother will then get uppity, declaring "Hijos de sus tisnada madres!" which roughly translates into a kinder, gentler way of saying, "Sons of bitches" without actually saying the swear word. 

I wish I could think of more, but I’m blanking at the moment.  However, what I have written has me giggling, let me assure you of that.