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| CANADA'S SOURCE FOR HUMOUR, PARODY, AND SATIRE
ON THE PHONE--Oh look, it's that time again. It's time to call your mother. The poor woman. You know that she's probably sitting close to the phone, just waiting for your call. You know that since your mom is retired and she lives alone that she isn't going to be busy--she's probably sitting at home right now making doilies or oatmeal cookies, patiently waiting to hear the details about her grandchildren's week at school, their soccer practices, and how they've grown out of last winter's coat.
No, don't be silly. Your mom is absolutely delighted to listen to your fascinating tales about the coupons you clipped out of this week's community flyer, and she hangs on every word about your problems with the neighbour's dog and the abundant amount of excrement he is leaving on your lawn. She waits in eager anticipation to learn of any news about the micro-details in your daily life. In fact, your mother has absolutely nothing else she'd rather do than listen to you prattle on about your problems with the minivan, the babysitter, and the cablevision. The knitting be damned! I want to know why you burned the roast last Sunday night! Hmm...that's strange. Your mother doesn't seem to be answering the phone right now. How could that be possible, when you know she never leaves the house? Oh no, your mother couldn't possibly be out with her friends from the church, or volunteering her time at the SPCA, or heaven forbid, socializing with the other seniors at the mall, playing bingo or keno. You know that without your frequent telephone calls, her life is an empty shell. She can't wait to hear about all your f*cking problems, because as your mother, it is her divine role on this Earth to mediate your marriage problems, rebuild your self-esteem because you think you're too fat, and tell you everything is going to be alright. Why isn't she answering the god-damned phone? Could she be in the bath tub, or does she have the television turned up too loudly? It isn't time for Matlock to be on, and it's too rainy for her to be out in the garden. Where the hell is she? No, since your father passed away nine years ago, there's absolutely no possibility that your mother has gotten herself a social life. And it's certainly not possible that she would be entertaining male suitors--not at her age! Mom, why the *&$% aren't you answering?! You need me! I must relate to you the major issues in my life, so that you can remain informed. You depend upon it!
No, there isn't even the slightest chance that the reason she's not answering
the phone right now to listen to your complaints about the snooty teenage
cashier who short-changed you at Burger King, or hear about your persistent
hangnail, or let you talk about your decision to change laundry soaps
because of the rash it's giving you, is because she is presently engaged
in an adulterous act with Floyd the dairy delivery man, the very fellow
who has been slipping your mother more than just an extra bottle of half-and-half
every week for the past two years.
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| This fictional story about satire is intended for adults. | The World Leader in Canadian humour, humor, parody, and satire. | |
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