My mom turned 57 five hours ago.
During a small celebration of bad (and I do mean bad) Mexican food and squat little beers with limes wedged into them, she askes me about D&D and I talk to her about other meaningless crap in my life.

I try and force a moment between us saying that if things had been different and I'd been stuck without her, my life would have been drastically different. I'm sure I'd have gone the rebellious teen route and probably still be stuck working at the movie theatre in Clariemont Square. Not sure what came over me but I did watch Kramer vs. Kramer that afternoon so I'll blame that. I could just come out and simply say it only dawns on me now how tough it must have been for her, being a single parent.
Having zero help.

Instead I go for this alt universe crap. But I don't want to make a scene in the brightly lit restaurant so I'll blame that. She's good at sniffing out these false movie-esque moments I attempt to create and has become skilled at redirecting the conversation to more neutral ground.
"What was it you always used to eat whenever we'd get Mexican?"
"Cheese Quesadillas."
"Yeah and sprites with lot of cherries in em."
"But no Grenadine cause that's nasty. You would always get a margarita on the rocks, no salt. Then I'd only eat shrimp for seafood and no hot dogs but I would eat hot dog buns with ketchup."
"Then every Thrusday night we'd go get pizza, you'd sign checks and I'd rescue scared kids from the slide."

I was supposed to take her to Chicago for a taping of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me! but tickets ran out. Instead we've been watching movies and just hanging out, which is still wonderful. We sit in her bed and watch All About Eve and we discuss stupid meaningless shit, then I can't sleep because the stupid cat keeps getting in my way.

Even now as I type this she rushes in at 5 am to turn on an old movie, Night of Lepus, about bunnies terrorizing Arizona.
Oh my God it is awesome.

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