Friday, July 22, 2016

Because I said so!

My husband and I do a food run early on most Saturdays to gather food from our neighboring city's stores and give it to a mission that then passes it out to those in need.

Whenever mom hears about our Saturday run she always asks, comments, inquire and otherwise informs us that she wants to "help" out too and she wants to come.

We always say no.

She doesn't understand our hardness of heart. She doesn't understand why not.

On some days we try to explain that she tends to take a lot of food for herself that then mold and rots, creating her "designer fragrance". She just denies, justifies or promises these allegations away.

Other days we don't explain ourselves.

We don't explain that in the corse of gathering food, some of it is truly not usable - to spoilt or to crushed, or having been spilled all over the ground, and we do, on occasion have to make the judgment call to throw it away, and we know she can not do that. We don't tell her that all the talking she does and her drive to keep all that is free, her obsession to make sure that not only herself gets all the free she can, but to make sure that we, her friends, or others get free whether or not we want it is taxing, and not a help in a case like a food run. I can't think of a time I've ever told her she is emotionally and mentally exhausting.  I'm ever careful not to hurt her like that if possible. Nevertheless, anyway we say "no" to her hurts her.

When we refuse her offer to help on Saturdays, without a reason, that hurts her, too, but there is not much to be done for that.
*Shrug* Oh, well.
It'll aways be "no".
Just.
No.

You can take her, if you'd like. If you feel we're being unfair. Bless your heart.

Designer Fragrance

Mom comes out of her house with a very sharp sour smell these days. I've long since accepted there is nothing to be done about it.
It is her designer fragrance.
Speaking of which, she just had her birthday. 74 years old.

So, my family treated her to dinner. She order the FULL rack of ribs so she could take some home, and enjoyed a sweet rum drink. I think it surprised her that she liked that drink, because she is otherwise NOT a drinker.
Anyway. Then I took her to a department store to pick out a bottle of perfume. It was something she "always wanted". I was willing. Hey, a bottle of perfume is on my birthday wish list, too!
First off, she had to find what type of perfume she wanted. She had no idea. She kept telling the store clerk that I had something she liked that was "real expensive", and she repeatedly asked me what it was. I couldn't remember, must be the free sample tube I have in my purse of "La Vi Est Belle" I got when I purchased some makeup a while ago. That or I had a knock off of "Viva La Juicy" lotion that I used. Mom was unsure of either and just kept asking me what it was.

I told her she just had to go around and smell the different perfumes to find one she liked. My 12 year old daughter with us, and so I was also getting "Mom! Smell this!" from her, too. I was explaining something to my daughter when my mom came and grabbed my arm from behind and sprayed some perfume on it! So I could tell her what I thought. My thoughts? They tumbled with my words . . .

"Ack! No! Don't! You spray on a piece of PAPER! Ack!" Always trying to be respectful of her and not just go off. It was an exercise in restraint!

So, I then had to explain that you sprayed a sample of perfume on PAPER to smell each one, otherwise your arms will become a kaleidoscope of smells and you'll be unable to distinguish one from another! Then I explained the coffee bean sniff you have to do every once and a while too to "clear your nose palate".

So she did, but she kept bringing the papers to me. "What do you think?" And ultimately, I felt like she had no idea, instead she really just wanted me to tell her which one smelled good. So, ultimately, I did. This one! I told her, this one smells real good and [since she balked at the price] they have a $74 dollar bottle instead of the $94 dollar one, that I'll get you. OK?

She went home happy. Talked of how she never had an expensive bottle of perfume before, how she always wanted one, etc..

On Sunday, when we picked her up for church, she came out with her sour house smell AND a spritz of her perfume. We complemented her on the use of her perfume, but it was not a better smell. Let me tell you!

It was, as ever, her designer fragrance.