Raising My Mother

Last week, we lost my mom.

As in, we couldn’t find her for a while.

I texted her in the morning with a question, which normally always gets a quick reply from her.  But by lunchtime, I had gotten no response.  So, I texted her again about something else.  A few hours later, no response.

That was weird.

When I got off of work later that afternoon, I called her, but got her voicemail.  I kept calling for the next hour, but got no response on her cell or at her house.  Something was strange.  She never went that long without contact.

I called my sister when she got off work later that day and she said that, no, she had not spoken with her and, come to think of it, Mom hadn’t replied to her text earlier that day either.  Now something was DEFINITELY up.

We continued to call and text her into that evening, and by dinnertime, we were starting to get worried. I called my sister again and we agreed that if we hadn’t heard from her by 9:00, we were going to call my Grandma and ask her to go over to mom’s house. I hated to do that because I didn’t want to worry my grandma, but this was definitely strange.

9:00 comes and goes, and still no response from my mom. Finally, I sent her one last desperate text, “If you don’t text me back in ten minutes, young lady, I’m going to call one of your neighbors. Or YOUR MOTHER!” Still no response. So, I called my grandma, who threw on some clothes and drove over to Mom’s house.

No one was there and her car was gone, but her cell phone was sitting on the kitchen counter.

Typical.

My mom forgets her cell phone all. the. time. But, she should be home by now. Grandma sat herself down on the couch and said she was going to wait for her to get home.

10:00 comes and goes.

10:30 comes and goes.

11:00 comes and goes.

11:30 comes and goes.

And still no mom.

Finally, my sister texted me early in the morning:

We gave her so much crap. We even tried grounding her. Finally, we settled with her calling us every time she left the house for two days. I feel like she got off easier than I would have!

The moral of the story? Mothers are irresponsible and cannot be trusted. Also, they have more fun than their daughters because as she was living it up at a concert with some friends, I was at home worrying and crocheting a baby blanket.

I’m lame.

My mom is cool.

The End.