Last night my mom used motherly voodoo to trick in me into fetching my camera, when all I wanted to do was sit with my feet in a baby pool and pretend I couldn’t understand my family. Sort of like being in high school, only I’m 32 now and live in my parent’s basement. In case you don’t know what motherly voodoo is, it’s another word for passive aggressive guilt: the foundation of families everywhere! At least that’s what I told myself when I took a swig of vodka in my closet before I rushed back upstairs, camera in hand.
Thank you so very much to everyone who commented on yesterday’s roll call! You all truly brightened a very shitty day.
Anytime I’m around my mother, I am reduced to an eye-rolling 16 year old. A couple months ago, she told me that my jacket wasn’t warm enough for the weather and I lost it, screaming “I am an ADULT! You are in my house, that I OWN!!! I am an ADULT!!!!!!!!!!”
So. I feel ya
.
In my family, motherly voodoo is Catholic guilt. I’m glad to hear the Catholics aren’t the only ones who pull that.
And vodka in your closet? Awesome.
Without alcohol, families would never be able to be in the same room as each other.
Family will drive ANYONE to drink! And if they don’t, it’s only ‘cuz they’re on prescription meds. And do you have a mini-fridge in your closet? Because the thought of a swig of warm vodka, while better than nothing, makes me shudder a little.
My mom has been super cool lately. The other day she told me “well I’m glad that I at least have you.” Sweet, I have yet again won the role of favorite child! But I guess it isn’t that hard considering my sister is a complete waste of space.
I am impervious to parental guilt. I guess I’m not trying hard enough.
Oh, and if I ever decide to join the “Dark Side” will you teach me how to drink?
still my favorite phrase
LOVE the title and can totally sympathize with the post!
I like to practice child voodoo guilt on my mother. I’ve managed to get better at it than she!
Try it!
Take the bottle of vodka upstairs, sit at the counter and drink while she flits about the kitchen. And, when she starts to lay on the voodoo — that’s when you hold up the bottle and say, “See this? I drink this because of YOU!”
…fun family game every time!!!!
Great post! Sending you a warm hug and the promise that it is going to get better!
…the basement is just a temporary thing while you get it together — then you can come back here and play!!!
Ahhhh…wait until you have children of your own.
Then you do NOTHING right!
My approach isn’t exactly like Matty’s, but when my mom (who I dearly love) comes and gets the voodoo going, the glass of wine comes out and the stareoff commences.
She usually gives up and has some too. Try it Pants, it might work. haha.
Whenever my mom is here, I turn into a bratty teenager again. I can’t help it! Except that since I don’t want my kids to see that, I do it all inside my head. Which makes me extremely tense the whole time she is here! She’s coming in a few weeks. Great, right?