I finally went to see the movie I starred in (well, that's how it felt to me) (with hundreds of other extras) here in Atlanta last fall. We went to the dollar theater and "ATL" was showing at 10:20. The movie was pretty good despite the fact the EVERY SCENE I REMEMBER BEING IN WAS CUT. (Okay Jali, calm down and stop shouting at these nice people.)
My daughter, the famous comedienne Brooke sent me a text message since I wouldn't answer the phone during the showing. "Goodnight ugly". The child made me laugh out loud and look like an idiot since there was nothing funny going on on the screen at that moment. I didn't tell her my plans for the evening so one of her agents must have fed her the information so that she could send the message at the optimum moment for mother embarrassment.
Mother embarrassment is payback for the teenager embarrassment I unintentionally inflicted on the child years ago. I didn't realize that picking her up from a meeting wearing acid-washed no-name jeans was something that would make her the object of laughter. I now understand that yelling, "that's MY child" while child is trying to lead the cheer at a ball game might have been a little over the top. Showing her friends the dances from my teens wasn't really a good idea now that I think about it, so I suppose whatever payback she dishes out is probably what I deserve.
Excuse the Mess
Trivia Game Link For Dirkie-Poo
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7 comments:
Mom's exist to embarass their kids, among many other reasons.
Acid-washed jeans... a true classic.
By the way... consider yourself linked.
I definitely get the thinking I am still cool thing. We ARE still Cool, but in a 70's 80's kind of way. When I want to feel good about how I dance, I dance with other women my age. They still remember what a Groove Thing is and why I need to shake it!
Steve - thank you!! I can't get my links to work - as soon as I do, you'll be linked here (of course)
Lynnie,
Dance with the wonderful Brother in Law!
Reading further into your excellent blog, this post brought back memories. My daughter had the immense bad fortune to be a teenager at a time in my life when I believed I was a Native American. In my ignorance and self-absorption, I tormented her with embarrassment on many notable occasions. (You always hurt the one you love.)
Finally she laid down some ground rules: Mothers should never wear anything ethnic, especially items with fringes. No headbands (PLEASE, Mom) and I shouldn't even think of treating her friends as if they were friends of mine.
I'm sure I deserve any kind of revenge she could cook up, but angel of forgiveness that she is, she never does.
I get the feeling she's kind of like Brooke in that regard.
HeartsinSanF,
I can just see you in ethnic gear and your daughter doing the "quickwalk - I'm not with her" thing. You made me laugh this morning.
You're either a supreme visionary or... you've been there. Yes, she had to weigh her options carefully as she wasn't yet old enough to drive, I was her fringed and beaded ride, and we lived miles away from her school. Such memories make me burn with shame still since they get trotted out merrily on all State Occasions for the delectation of all (MOST.)
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