Dad has been in Nicaragua for the last week, he actually flies in later today.
My mother, while incredibly aggressive, physically tough, violent, and tyrannical as she is, has one gigantic flaw: she is ridiculously afraid of the dark... I'm talking straight phobia status.
Mom can't listen to scary stories without panicking... and when she panics, it's not a girly panic, it's a violent "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND GET OUT OF HERE! I'M NOT PLAYING" type panic. It does not matter how much we try to rationalize with her over how fucking ridiculous some of the things we're discussing might be... she will have nothing to do with it.
She will strangle a fucking intruder with her bare hands... but god forbid anyone mentions a ghost having some unfinished business in the living realm.
So, I have a scaredy-cat mom.
In Mexico, she never allowed us to sleep in our own room. Instead, Mom would scoot together both beds in the "kid's bedroom" and would have Sister, Brother, her, and me sleep in the same giant bed... with a nightlight plugged in the entire night, every night of our Mexico stay.
This was possible up until Rafa reached puberty... at around 13. By the time Rafa felt he was an adult, he moved out of the room and left Sister and I to deal with Mom's fear of the darkness.
Sister was around 13 when she decided she wanted to sleep in her own bed, so while we were still in the same room, sister got her own bed, and I shared my bed with Mom.
I STILL do that in Mexico... well, not the two final year's of my grandma's life... those summers Mom slept in the same bed as her mom... that sad sight... but we picked it right back up in 2010, and 2012.
In the states, Sister and I would sleep in Mom's bed whenever Dad left on trips with his church... this is from 2000 and on.
We did it because she is such a sad little panda when she has to go to bed, often waiting until three in the morning to finally knock out... lighting every single damn light in the house until she reaches her room.
Also, because her bed is huge and comfortable as fuck... and it's Mom... c'mon, that's just some comforting shit.
So... guess what I've been doing all week... Yep, I've moved in to Mom's room.
I've been watching the lady go to sleep each night... kind of easy, considering she snores and it drives me too fucking insane to go to sleep at a godly hour.
I think the stress of dealing with her snoring was finally pent up long enough for me to lash out last night... well, I guess technically yesterday.
I was sleeping, and it was some time between 3-4 in the morning, when I woke up as I felt my left hand raising in the air. I know I was having some sort of aggressive dream, and that I woke up when I felt my arm in the air and thought "HOLD UP... this is happening for real!" I saw my mother was in the fetal positing, her back to me, and my arm was already half way down into the karate chop. I was fully awake when my karate chop hit the little lady smack dab in the middle of her left rib.
That's right, I karate chopped my sleeping mother.
I saw Mom flail upon my hand making contact... and I immediately closed my eyes.
I'll just act asleep and make her think she dreamt the physical contact...
Guys, I felt terrible.
But I did laugh uncontrollably when my mind randomly decided to remind me of the night's activity as I was driving home from the gym.
When my mother returned from work, I couldn't stand the guilt, and I finally told her what happened. My mother asked me to reenact the scene, since she had no recollection of it ever happening. When I landed my hand on her ribs, she immediately felt the pain where I had karate chopped her.
Mom: Oh my god... you could have killed me!
Me: Don't be dramatic... it was an accident. I did it all the time to D.
Mom: You need to stop watching all that stupid ID channel, murder garbage.
Me: No, you just need to quit being so lame about the dark.
Mom: I think you're better off single...
She might be right... I may be able to karate chop my mother in my sleep without any repercussions... but a man? I'd get my own 20/20 episode.
My mother, while incredibly aggressive, physically tough, violent, and tyrannical as she is, has one gigantic flaw: she is ridiculously afraid of the dark... I'm talking straight phobia status.
Mom can't listen to scary stories without panicking... and when she panics, it's not a girly panic, it's a violent "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND GET OUT OF HERE! I'M NOT PLAYING" type panic. It does not matter how much we try to rationalize with her over how fucking ridiculous some of the things we're discussing might be... she will have nothing to do with it.
She will strangle a fucking intruder with her bare hands... but god forbid anyone mentions a ghost having some unfinished business in the living realm.
So, I have a scaredy-cat mom.
In Mexico, she never allowed us to sleep in our own room. Instead, Mom would scoot together both beds in the "kid's bedroom" and would have Sister, Brother, her, and me sleep in the same giant bed... with a nightlight plugged in the entire night, every night of our Mexico stay.
This was possible up until Rafa reached puberty... at around 13. By the time Rafa felt he was an adult, he moved out of the room and left Sister and I to deal with Mom's fear of the darkness.
Sister was around 13 when she decided she wanted to sleep in her own bed, so while we were still in the same room, sister got her own bed, and I shared my bed with Mom.
I STILL do that in Mexico... well, not the two final year's of my grandma's life... those summers Mom slept in the same bed as her mom... that sad sight... but we picked it right back up in 2010, and 2012.
In the states, Sister and I would sleep in Mom's bed whenever Dad left on trips with his church... this is from 2000 and on.
We did it because she is such a sad little panda when she has to go to bed, often waiting until three in the morning to finally knock out... lighting every single damn light in the house until she reaches her room.
Also, because her bed is huge and comfortable as fuck... and it's Mom... c'mon, that's just some comforting shit.
So... guess what I've been doing all week... Yep, I've moved in to Mom's room.
I've been watching the lady go to sleep each night... kind of easy, considering she snores and it drives me too fucking insane to go to sleep at a godly hour.
I think the stress of dealing with her snoring was finally pent up long enough for me to lash out last night... well, I guess technically yesterday.
I was sleeping, and it was some time between 3-4 in the morning, when I woke up as I felt my left hand raising in the air. I know I was having some sort of aggressive dream, and that I woke up when I felt my arm in the air and thought "HOLD UP... this is happening for real!" I saw my mother was in the fetal positing, her back to me, and my arm was already half way down into the karate chop. I was fully awake when my karate chop hit the little lady smack dab in the middle of her left rib.
That's right, I karate chopped my sleeping mother.
I saw Mom flail upon my hand making contact... and I immediately closed my eyes.
I'll just act asleep and make her think she dreamt the physical contact...
Guys, I felt terrible.
But I did laugh uncontrollably when my mind randomly decided to remind me of the night's activity as I was driving home from the gym.
When my mother returned from work, I couldn't stand the guilt, and I finally told her what happened. My mother asked me to reenact the scene, since she had no recollection of it ever happening. When I landed my hand on her ribs, she immediately felt the pain where I had karate chopped her.
Mom: Oh my god... you could have killed me!
Me: Don't be dramatic... it was an accident. I did it all the time to D.
Mom: You need to stop watching all that stupid ID channel, murder garbage.
Me: No, you just need to quit being so lame about the dark.
Mom: I think you're better off single...
She might be right... I may be able to karate chop my mother in my sleep without any repercussions... but a man? I'd get my own 20/20 episode.
No comments:
Post a Comment