"The agony and the irony are killing me..."
So I decided to make this huge lasagna dinner for my mom since she was depressed. She has been in a slump ever since the dog died. I think she started to think of the dog as the sixth Coniff kid. Mary Giorgi, my mom's neighbor, said my mom and dad were more upset about Cookie dying than my sister and brother. It's just sad.
Yesterday, my mom put the finishing touches on a memorial garden for Cookie. She stragetically placed a statue of St. Francis between the dog's leash and a bone that the dog only ate half of. Marlene rocked back and forth on her heels, looking at the make-shift shine to Cookie and making her "disgusted" face. She's really torn up about the dog.
So I thought the lasagne would make her feel better. She was perky, or at least as perky as she gets during the dinner. My brother, Matt, is studying ancient languages at UB. He is hoping to go on an archeologist dig next summer.
Mom: (to Matt) Archeology is boring. You should become a doctor.
Me: How do you know archeology is boring? How many digs have you been on?
Mom: (with 'disgusted' face) All you do is rub stuff with a paint brush. You could be rubbing some dirt with a paint brush for like 10 years. And then you find out nothing's there.
Me: I don't think they would dig at the same place for like 10 years if they knew nothing was there.
Mom: Yes, they do! They keep digging. What a boring job. Matt, you should become a doctor.
It has been my mother's not-so-secret wish that one of us become a doctor. In fact, I believe my mother was deeply disappointed when I gave up my pre-med studies at St. Bonaventure to major in English.
Later on, I proposed to my mother that we switch jobs for the day. There are not that many days left to the school year and things are hectic.
Me: I will work for you, Mom...for the day, and you can work for me. I'll even give you five dollars, if you go to work for me.
Mom: What good is that going to do?
Me: You help kids who are somewhere between life and death. I just teach English.
Mom (disgusted face): You do more than me.
Me: No, I don't.
She just flashed me her disgusted look, one more time, as she rinsed the dishes. I bet she woulda changed jobs with me if I was a doctor.
