A Conversation with Mum about Lunch, Lying and Bad-arsing

Home office phone rings

Mum:  Where are you?

Me:      Why?

Mum:  I want to know.

Me:      You rang the home office phone so where do you think I am?

Mum:  Don’t be a smartarse.

Me:      You know you never used to say bad words.

Mum:  Yes, well, I’ve changed.  I’m a bad-arse now.

Me:      Lovely.

Mum:  Anyway, I want you to come and meet me and the (grand)kids.

Me:      Um.  When?

Mum:  Now.

Me:      Right now?

Mum:  For lunch.  Okay in ten minutes then at the village (which is about five mins away by car)

Me:      You never did get this working from home thing did you?

Mum:  What’s to get?

Me:      I’m working.

Mum:  Not at lunchtime.

Me:      I’ve actually already eaten.

Mum:  Why would you do that?

Me:      It’s lunchtime.

Mum:  Which is why I called.  So you’ll come.

Me:      Ah. I have work to do.

Mum:  You need to be better organised.

Me:      I was nicely organised.

Mum:  You’re not.

Me:      Because I’m reluctant to drop everything and skive off for lunch that I didn’t know was happening and I’ve already eaten.

Mum:  Exactly.  So meet as at Bowery Island.

Me:      Wait, you said, the village.

Mum:  Same difference.

Me:      The village is five minutes away.  Bowery Island is twenty minutes away in a whole other shopping centre that’s not my local one.

Mum:  That’s why I got you to agree to the village, I knew you’d fuss if it was further away.

Me:      No kidding.  You lied.

Mum:  No I didn’t

Me:      Yes, you did.

Mum:  Okay.  Of course I did.

Me:      Because you’re a bad-arse.

Mum:  Laughing.  Yes because of that and because you’re difficult.

Me:      I’m difficult.

Mum:  Look just do whatever work it is tonight.

Me:      That would be fine if clients weren’t expecting it today.

Mum:  See, bad planning.

Me:      Sigh.

Mum:  Okay make it half an hour, we’ve already talked ten minutes, you could be here by now.

Me:      I could be at the village.

Mum:  Don’t go there – we’re not there.

Me:      Mum.

Mum:  You’re not coming are you?

Me:      No, I’m not.  I have things I have to do and I’ve—

Mum:  Don’t give me excuses.

Me:      Sigh.  I’m going now.  Bye, Mum.

Mum:  All right.  Stick in the mud.  Bye.

She fumbles the hang up and just before I end the call I hear:      Is it me?  Maybe it’s me.

I think about saying something reassuring, then I hear:                 It’s bloody well not me, then she giggles.  I’m bad-arse.