girlfiend

We visited my mom at the shore for the first time this summer and things didn’t go too badly. Things actually went quite well- no fights, no failing to choke back my rage, no insanity. The Fiendling didn’t want to go to sleep so bedtime was a battle both nights we were there, but the baby is easy going and my mom didn’t make me crazy so everything worked out. I even fit into last summer’s bathing suit with only a small amount of muffin toppage. If this keeps up we may actually be able to enjoy the shore this summer.

Don’t worry though. I haven’t lost my mind entirely. I know that any more than two consecutive nights is asking for trouble. My mother is still crazy and I still cringe at most of what she says. Sadly I missed hearing this gem first hand. My mom told Boyfiend some story about her friend’s cooking. Her friend G, who I’ve known since I was born, loves to entertain but isn’t much of a cook. There’s always something strange about her recipes and things always taste better when others are helping out in the kitchen. My mom described eating some meatballs at G’s house to Boyfiend and said that they were really cocked up.

As he recounted this to me I needed some clarification. What exactly was the context of the phrase “cocked up?” Does cocked up mean that the meatballs were good or bad? What was cocked up about them? The answer is that the meatballs had cheese in the middle and that cocked up means that they were good. Boyfiend thoroughly grossed me out by explaining that perhaps the cheese oozed out of the middle, hence the word “cocked.” We giggled about it for a while. A long while.

A little later Boyfiend went into the kitchen and I asked him to get me some ice cream. With berries. And pretzels. I wasn’t sure if he heard the additional request so I followed him in. He turned around holding a large bowl of ice cream with strawberries, raspberries and pretzels and said, “Here, I really cocked it up for you. I cocked it up good.”