What a Gas

Not long after college, when I was still young, broke, and only marginally fabulous, I had dinner at my parents’ house with some other guests. After dinner, I pulled my mom aside and whispered a request for some gas money. She returned with a package of tums. I was, understandably, perplexed.

For the first time in my life, my mother had done something cruel (you’re going to deny your BABY GIRL some gas money?) but hilarious (OH THAT KIND OF GAS! I GET IT!) and I didn’t know whether to be delighted or horrified.

In the last few years, we have learned that mom is experiencing some hearing loss. Turns out, “Can I have something for gas” was what she heard, and to be totally fair, this was my ride at the time:

That thing was so slow. I felt like I was always playing ketchup!

To this day, part of me still wishes she had done it on purpose. Then again, where’s the fun in blogging about what a heartless b*tch your mom is?

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