My mother and I, a tragic tale of thrush and condoms
For those of you that read this blog on a regular basis you’ll know that my mother likes to comment. In fact, reading my blog is part of her ‘breakfast routine’ — she can often be found with a cup of tea and pastry in-hand as she reads my blog in the morning, her face displaying a terrible, nervous grin as she discovers yet another disgusting fact about her ‘beautiful, first-born son Sebastian’ (that’s how she introduces me to friends).
Every Thursday morning, like clockwork, she yells up the stairs: ‘That’s not true is it Sebastian?!’
And every time I answer with a noncommittal ‘Maybe… now where’s my coffee?’
Basically, my mother and I have a very close relationship. We talk about almost everything. She’s not quite as smart as me, but she’s a lot brighter than people give her credit for! She’s funny, though not generally witty, but occasionally she pulls out a good one. And that’s what this story’s about.
As always… for more TMI Thursday stories, check out Lilu’s infamous blog!
I’m going to tell you the origin of our ‘Embarrass Each Other’ game. It’s a very self-destructive game but just too damn fun to give up. The basic idea is simple: try to embarrass mum/Seb as much as possible. Normally this is achieved by talking very loudly in public places: theme parks, supermarkets, malls, that kind of thing. Teenage boys have a lot of things they’re embarrassed by and, believe it or not, so do ageing women!
So we’re at the supermarket on Saturday, buying food for the week. It’s very busy. We find ourselves in the ‘toiletries’ aisle, home of shampoo, toothpaste and… objects of a more private nature.
“Hey, mum, don’t you need to pick up a pregnancy test? What with all those random guys you’ve been sleeping with…”
I start off quietly, low-key. One old lady turns to look at my mother disapprovingly but we ignore her.
“Shall we check if they have those special condoms for people of a smaller, midget-like stature?” She’s louder. A couple of teenage girls turn to giggle at me. Low-blow, mum.
“What about those adult diapers? You know, those nappies that you can wear to prevent ‘embarrassing moments’. They’re just over here I think…” No more Mr Nice Guy. Right in there with the incontinence pants. We’ve often joked that my sole purpose in life is to look after her when she’s older and less… in control.
“Oh, look, they have special razors for that unibrow of yours! AND you can use it when you finally get some facial hair! Two birds with one stone!” (OK, so I was a late bloomer…) — I don’t think she realises just how loud she’s shouting, but people at both ends of the aisle have stopped to look at us. Even those paying for their food and the staff have started watching us.
“Ahhh, look! THE THRUSH CREAM! FOR THE ITCHING! Really, anything to stop you whining about that damn burning sensation!”
My mum pouts and falls silent. I’ve won; not without taking a few blows, but I’ve won, that’s what matters. I’m smiling like a smug idiot that’s just won the Special Prize. People are looking at me as if I’m dribbling down my front and walking with a limp usually reserved for limb-dragging quadriplegics.
And then my girlfriend appears. She waltzes down the aisle, unaware of the drama that’s just unfolded. She stops at one shelf and picks up a pack of extra-small condoms. She stops again and picks up a tube of thrush cream. Only then does she notice my mother and I.
OH SHI–
Related posts:
*sigh* That was indeed one of those special Mother and Son moments….
I don’t think that you have told all the boys and girls about that embarrassing time when you, I think the term is ‘Jizzed in your pants’ at a particularly exciting episode of ‘Star Trek’ though, have you dear?
WHADDYA MEAN, I AM NOT GENERALLY WITTY???!!!!
September 3rd, 2009 at 9:25 amI think I love your Mum.
I will never forget my own Mother chasing me around one of the more local and intimate branches of Boots, with a pack of Tampons and some Rimmel “hide the blemish”. I took this as a sign of things to come… I am confident that it would have just been a matter of years before we would have been using barrier-method contraceptives as missiles in the “Feminine Hygiene aisle”.
Ahhh.
September 3rd, 2009 at 9:54 amYOu wanna take my mum shopping?
September 3rd, 2009 at 12:38 pmNo no, when I complain about such things, my mother always retorts with ‘well who would you rather have as your mother?!’
She then lists a bunch of other local women which… well… suck in comparison to my mum. I’m sure I didn’t draw the short straw…
Chasing, Abi…? Like… threateningly? Or like some kind of end-of-film dramatic fight scene?
September 3rd, 2009 at 1:01 pmOh, I just spotted my mother’s comment…
WITTY AS ALWAYS MUM. AS LONG AS IT’S SCAT HUMOUR, YOU’RE FASTER THAN LIGHTNING.
September 3rd, 2009 at 1:02 pmhahaha AWESOME!! So… here in the States… we don’t have that same kind of wit… but when I was a teenager I had very few ways to rebel, because my Mom was so damn cool she really respected us and we weren’t over sheltered or cesored or any of those things that make kids go crazy. So one thing I would do… is if we were in Wal-Mart… I would find the ugliest, cheapest furniture items and yell things like
“Momma! We’s gotta git us this here pillow cushion! It matches that leopard-stripe couch cousin got in her divorce, and if she’s staying with us while her boyfriend’s in jail we outta be able ta use dat couch!”
This post reminded me of a funnier, more R-rated version of our “pretend my family’s white trash while we’re in Wal-Mart” game.
September 3rd, 2009 at 2:00 pm[...] Sebastian’s My mother and I, a tragic tale of thrush and condoms [...]
September 3rd, 2009 at 2:09 pmSeb I’m sorry but you’ve been knocked down a peg. Your mom is currently my favorite person.
September 3rd, 2009 at 2:52 pmOh that’s OK Jossie… if anyone other than I were to be your favourite person, my mother would be my first pick.
Sarah — I’m so glad other people play the same games! The story above is one of the nastier times; sometimes we’re a lot easier going, a lot more… respectful. I vaguely recall walking around a Wal-Mart with an American friend and being obnoxious… but I think I was being ironic, so they didn’t get me at all… But I remember thinking I was really funny!
Nothing wrong with leopard-stripe couches btw…
September 3rd, 2009 at 2:58 pmThe title – quite disturbing. The post – freaking HYSTERICAL!
September 3rd, 2009 at 2:59 pmLooks like your mother ’s taken the game to the comment box!
I also play this embarrass each other game, but really only with my friends. Public humiliation is a guilty pleasure of mine.
September 3rd, 2009 at 3:03 pmYour mom sounds really awesome, Sebbie.
So does she object my often inappropriate comments?
September 3rd, 2009 at 3:03 pmIt seems having a disturbing title is key to luring in the poor, unsuspecting audience… But I’m glad it delivered
September 3rd, 2009 at 3:04 pmHehehe. Your mom is awesome.
September 3rd, 2009 at 3:06 pmOops, missed some — Andhari, she knows about you, and how I will likely stay with your sorry ass when I visit Indonesia. She thinks you’re lovely, but a bit small (even though she knows my history with short girls…)
Tim, if I had friends, no doubt I would play this game with them instead. Sadly, my mother is about as close to a good friend as I get at the moment
September 3rd, 2009 at 3:06 pmI should probably try instigating a game of this with my mum. I doubt she would retaliate though, she’s too nice.
I have played it with friends (and my sisters) before, but not for a while. I think it works particularly well in places with a high proportion of ‘older’ people. Say a tea room or something. Nothing better than a bit of inappropriate jibing over scones and clotted cream.
September 3rd, 2009 at 4:15 pmMy mother’s as nice as it gets, she’s just a little wild (which is where I get my wildness from, as my dad isn’t very wild at all… unless you consider grunting like a caveman ‘exciting’…)
I think we had a ‘domestic’ over a piece of gooey caramel-chocolate-shortbread at a tea shop once. You’re right, it’s probably all about the audience…
September 3rd, 2009 at 4:19 pmOh geeze!!! I think I’d hide under the freakin’ cart if I had to go shopping with the two of you!
Funny…
September 3rd, 2009 at 4:38 pmFunny you should mention that… we’re not always alone. My dad usually fades into the background, or suddenly remembers something that he needs from another aisle.
Occasionally innocent bystanders get hurt, but we try to minimise shrapnel…
September 3rd, 2009 at 4:47 pmThey make extra small condoms?
AWKWARD.
September 3rd, 2009 at 5:06 pmJust as they make extra-large ones… or so I am told…
September 3rd, 2009 at 5:08 pmHahaha! LOVE this blog, definitely following.
Your mum fantastic!!!
September 3rd, 2009 at 5:59 pmbeautiful? i think you heard she said, first-born son sebastian raised by my beautiful self.
XD seb, get your mom to guest blog! come on… i’m sure she’s up to it. who knows, she’ll let us know more about your dirty laundry
(not like you’re not gonna tell us some time in the future anyway, right?)
seb’s mom: i think you’re wittier than seb
seb seems to be wittier because he’s the blogger here hehe.
seb: i’m kidding. i love you!
September 3rd, 2009 at 6:22 pmGoodness. I could NEVER talk to my mom like that.
September 3rd, 2009 at 6:45 pmtiny condoms….
September 3rd, 2009 at 8:05 pmI totally play this game with my brother
My mom tends to take things to heart a little too much to be able to include her…
September 3rd, 2009 at 9:14 pmToo funny! How great to be able to have such fun with your mom!!!
September 3rd, 2009 at 10:45 pmThank you everyone, I love you all!
I am considering writing a guest blog, but the trouble is, it wil be so good that it will make Sebby’s blog look very tame…..
September 3rd, 2009 at 11:23 pmAs his mummy it is my natural instinct to support and protect him, not make him look pathetic, so I have a bit of a problem.
Maybe if you all give me things you want me to write about it would make my job easier?
Love and kisses
xoxoxo
You’re such a sell-out! Pandering to your adoring audience. Ugh!
You can borrow her for a while if you like Lucy…
You’re so diplomatic, Stiletto
Stephanie: yes… well done for spotting the typo! I obviously meant HUGE condoms.
September 3rd, 2009 at 11:28 pmI have to say, after the truly disturbing title I was expecting something a little more… um, disturbing. I have a headache and need a thesaurus. Please excuse this awful comment.
September 4th, 2009 at 2:30 amI just wanted to prove that not every TMI story has to involve scat or bodily fluids, but can still be funny and/or embarrassing.
Come back with your thesaurus.
September 4th, 2009 at 2:41 amLOL youre mom is hilarious!!! did that gf part with the extra small condoms and thrush cream really happen?
i wouldve laughed my heads off….i wish my mom was more open 
September 4th, 2009 at 9:48 amThat bit actually happened.
But she didn’t actually pick up extra-small condoms, honest…!
September 4th, 2009 at 1:28 pmLol. That is hilarious. My mom and brother go at it sometimes… But not that bad.
September 5th, 2009 at 4:03 amOh my Goodness, that story is hilarious! But that’s a game I definitely never want to play!
September 5th, 2009 at 3:55 pm