Random Conversation with my Ma

Ma is a real old broad. She has been in the honest-to-a-fault-speak-her-mind-don’t-put-up-with-shit way since well before I was alive. Now in her late 70’s and still fighting cancer, there has been nothing approaching shyness in her opinions.

Again, not that she needed an excuse to be wonderfully blunt. But I used to be able to count on her avoiding at least a few conversational topics. Sex and relationships used to be on the top of the list. Growing up, her version of ‘the Talk’ was: Keep in you pants or I’ll cut it off. Believe it or not, this was said out of love and concern and a complete in ability to talk to her children about sex.

When I went away to college, her stance softened. One shining example I’ll always remember was when she called on Sunday morning and my first serious college girlfriend answered the phone while we’re lying in bed. After taking the phone from her and expecting Ma to reach through the phone to kill me, I was stunned when she simply assured me that she had faith that I was being careful.

It was a big HUH moment. My Ma trusts me when it comes to sex?

Once I graduate college, the change became complete and dramatic. My Dad would sometimes tell dirty jokes to me and my brothers when I was growing up. He was my father. It’s part of the job. I never in a million years expected to hear them from my Ma.

Hearing you’re Ma cracking sexual jokes at the expense of various relatives was a stunning experience.

Now, years later, you’d think I’d be able to handle it better.

Not so much.

I’m driving home today and I called to say hi, catch up a little with her and my brother. She’s asking what’s going on with me, how’s the new job, when I’m gonna move into the new apartment. Normal her checking up on me stuff. But it seems she was in a mood and decided to share. She skipped asking if I’ve talked to The Heroine (which is fine because I wasn’t in the mood to hear her opinions on that whole thing again…) and asked if I was getting a roommate for my new place. No, I explained. I’m not planning on living with anyone again until I’m ready to live with a girlfriend, and that’s a ways off. At my age, I’d rather pay for the privacy.

“Just me and the cat,” I say.

“Well, that’s good,” she says, and I hear the smirk as she says, “At least you’ve have some pussy at home then.”

I’m very glad I was getting off the highway at that point, so the momentary loss of control didn’t cause an accident.

With her snickering at my reaction, she calmly said she’d let me go since she was busy making dinner. Her casually use of the word still echoing in my ear, I happily agreed.

That’s my Ma.