Several years ago, my sister gave me a t-shirt that read...
“Be kind to your children. They will choose your nursing home.”
It was cute, it was sarcastic, and I liked it.
Little did I know the lively discussions it would spark between
me and my youngest daughter.
She has lived with me for a long time. She knows me well.
My daughter also excels in pushing my buttons and with great glee I should add.
She will never let me forget that she knows where to find them as easily
as if they were tattooed across my forehead.
My story is a sad one....
You see... I bear the scars of a child who grew up in a house
where all genre of police shows were highly favoured by my own mother.
I have never forgiven her for this.
Yes, never did a day go by without having to endure shows such as
F.B.I., Dragnet, Mod Squad, Hawaii 5-0, Perry Mason, Rockford Files,
Mannix, Kojack, Cannon, Police Woman, Adam 12,
Streets of San Fransisco and on and on....
I hated them all.
Any given night during the sixties and early seventies
would be a plethora of “Book’em Danno’s” and “Just the facts ma’am”.
Don’t get me wrong, they were well written, had great actors.
I'll admit they were... well, ..... okay.
However, it grew to be a bit much as the years fell away.
On the other hand, I’ve always loved Star Trek and science fiction
became a favourite genre of mine when deciding what shows to watch as an adult.
Then one day, my daughter gave me horrible news...
“Mom,” she said to me, “I am going to pick you out a nursing home
that plays nothing but Matlock reruns.”
I was shocked.
What kind of loving child would subject their mother to such torture?
“You don’t really mean that.” I replied, trying to keep my worry in check.
“Yes... I do. And no Star Trek will be allowed either, just Matlock,”
she replied with her beautiful smile.
Well, it didn’t take long before I countered her threat with one of my own.
For many years, I have actively pressed her to take up knitting with me,
but my petitions in this regard have always been denied.
“Knitting is evil,” was always her only response whenever I asked
if I could teach her how to knit.
And so, to get her back for putting me a home showing only Matlock reruns,
I informed her that I would be leaving my
entire knitting needle collection
solely to her, all three boxes of them.
No, I don’t have an accurate count of them
as there are so many more important things to do in life
rather than counting your knitting needles, wouldn’t you agree?
Anyway, she has informed me this past weekend
that should I carry out my threat and indeed leave
her my vast knitting needle collection,
she will only bury them all in her back yard.
I thought for a moment.
“Yes,” I answered her back, ...
“but an evil knitting needle tree would instantly grow
out of the ground and eat you alive.”
Now, my daughter is a horror movie aficionado,
and I have never seen her shrink away from a
hypothetically gruesome scene.
That is, until that very moment.
Now, you may ask...
“What kind of mother would wish an evil knitting needle tree
to grow out of the ground devour her child alive?”
This mother would, but only if her daughter forced her to watch
nothing but Matlock during her declining years.
Sadly, I can only imagine what kind of stories
she will be telling her children about me, their grandmother.
Like, for example...
- No sooner had she moved out of the house when her mother filled her old bedroom with an enormous yarn stash.
- How for Christmas and birthdays, all I ever wanted was more yarn.
- Or most sadly, when on a family holiday, I dragged everyone to the local area yarn store.
Yes...
I am an evil mother.
And I hope she never forgets it.
