Just a dead shark on a forklift
MY MOM IS IN TOWN!
That means a lot of quality mom and daughter bonding time, her telling me I should brush my hair and her telling my boyfriend stories about how I don’t share food.
I love my Mom more than anything. I am her only daughter and she solely raised me, so needless to say we’re very much alike. Due to this fact and the fact that we both come from a long lineage of guilt-inducing Jews, we bicker a lot. I went to therapy to nip the guilt tripping trait in the bud, so when my mother, and especially my grandmother, try to pull it on me, I turn into a raving She-Hulk. When you’re little, you don’t know any better; feeling guilty for absolutely nothing was pounded into my soft skull at a very young age. When you’re older, you realize that normal people don’t say things like, “You think I’m stupid!” when you don’t agree with something they say or, “You must not like spending Christmas-” -we’re religiously inadequate Jews- “-with the family anymore!” when you can’t afford to fly home for the holidays.
My mother and I take a large trip together every year. Every year I get very excited for this time, but I also know that we’re going to be slinging exasperated sighs and disgusted stares at one another off and on. These reactions mostly result from our differences in food: I will eat anything that exists on this planet (except for Hakarl) and my mother considers Swiss on grilled cheese gourmet food. We have traveled some of the most culinary-diverse areas of North America (Vancouver, Santa Fe, Los Angeles) and have nearly brawled over what to eat. Mom is petrified of food that isn’t American or European and anytime I even suggest Indian, Thai, Mexican or Japanese cuisine, she shoots me a look as though I just shat myself and coldly proclaims, “NO!”. Every time she says that, a little piece of me dies. Her closed-mindedness when it comes to food is quite possibly the third thing I most hate after Texas mold allergies and Lookbook photos.
It’s not that my mother is closed-minded about other cultures: she is one of the most open-minded and liberal 62 year-olds that I know. She’s just perpetually 5 years of age when it comes to her palate and 8 years of age when it comes to her stubbornness of trying anything new. You’d think after all of these years she would loosen up a bit, but NOOOOOO. Oh, wait! I do have to give her credit for trying Pad Thai with tofu from one of Portland’s famous food trucks, but that was due to the fact that she was very hungry and ended up eating half of my plate when I wasn’t looking. I’ve been to restaurants where my mother just flat out refused to eat and we sat in silence as I nibbled on delicious Indian or Mexican food. In Santa Fe, I ordered fajitas thinking that it was neutral enough for her to eat, but instead she picked at tortilla chips before “accidentally” flipping the entire plate of fajitas into my purse.
In a few days we will be driving to the culinary-rich New Orleans. This is going to be interesting. Stay tuned for photos of New Orleans and my Mom and I looking at each other with complete disdain.
P.S. I’ve never been to New Orleans! What places are an absolute must?