Home from cheshire coffee

My mom has this really old brush that she uses for cleaning mushrooms.  My dad apparently used this alleged mushroom brush for some sinister personal use, and left it brown and dirty in the kitchen sink.

My mom in her loud upset voice, “Who did this?  Why is it so dirty?  I use this to clean vegetables!  Who did this?”  Each question getting louder and angrier.

Me – “Dad did it.  He used it to clean his toe nails.”

This enraged her.

Mom – “This is for vegetables!  For food!  What did he use it for!?”

Me – “He used it to clean the gunk off the grill.”

My dad was innocently watching tv in the living room and enjoyed being able to blame his hearing problems for not answering my mom.

Me – “What did you use it for Dad?”

Dad – “I used it to clean my toe nails, then cleaned the gunk off the grill.”

I guess he’s not so deaf after all.

My mom just limped downstairs to use my bathroom because OCDC is cleaning his dinner plate in the bathroom sink upstairs.  He has to wash it thoroughly to ensure all the germs are wiped clean.  He does this for about an hour…..in the bathroom.  The bathroom!

My mom is snooping around in my bathroom.  She’s talking and muttering to herself.  Still buzzing from the mushroom brush debacle.

Mom – “You have to clean this bathroom.”

Me – “Okay.”

Mom – “That’s weird.”  She’s talking to herself now.  She found something weird in my bathroom.  I hear cabinets being opened and shut, the toilet seat going up and down for inspection.  “I used to keep it so clean in here.”

Mom – “You have to clean this mess!”

Me – “Okay”

Mom – “A young lady should not live like this.”

Me – “Okay.”

Mom – “It’s disgusting in here.”

Me – “Okay.”  I say as I type this whole event as it unfolds.

Mom – “It looks like a homeless person lives here.”

I start laughing.  Why?  Why not.

Since I gotten back from Minnesota, I’ve been thinking about my age.  I went to Minnesota to celebrate my good friends thirtieth birthday, and at one point during the night, me, Holly and Steph (two of my close buddies from high school) all danced together arm-in-arm like we were still kids.  That moment could have happened 10 years ago, and could easily happen again in the future.  It was a timeless moment.  It made me think that some things never change, but I keep getting older none-the-less.

I’m sitting here at my cheap $45 walmart desk in my bedroom, eating my mothers pot roast, taking in some major deep breaths because what I’m feeling right now is hard to put into words.

What happens when all this is gone?  What happens if all this will never be gone?

I spent so much time in Cheshire coffee because every time I come home it’s just a reminder of this unexplainable feeling, and I have no one here to explain it to.  Well, at least try to explain it.  But I think therein lies the problem.  I have no one to talk to.  When I come home that is.

Maybe I should’ve stayed in Cheshire coffee and striked up a conversation with those colorful people in the back.  I should join their little soiree next Sunday and see what they’re all about.  I think they were members of a LARP.  That’s live action role-playing for all of you non-nerds.

When I’m not home, I don’t want to go back.  And when I am home, I don’t want to leave.

There’s nothing left for me to do except finish eating my potato’s and pea’s and watch Pillars of the Earth on netflix.

Lol I just thought of something funny; when my mom was  downstairs yelling at me to clean my bathroom, I should’ve told her that I used the mushroom brush to clean the mushrooms growing in my shower.



Filed under humor, journal, My OCD cousin who wants to kill me, random thoughts

3 responses to “Home from cheshire coffee

  1. Steph

    I can totally see the whole event going down, right down to your mama’s voice!! I love it!
    You are right about the dancing!!! that will happen no matter how old we are!!!! 🙂
    when we are old and 90 we should do it.

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