Are You My Mother?
- Written by Quinn Myers
- April 7, 2011
It was a warm day in April when young Michael woke up in his top bunk. The sun warmed his sheets so much he jumped and jumped, and fell right out of bed! Michael didn’t know what to do, his legs were still weak from sleep, and his head was still in dreamland. “I really wish my mother was here, to make me food and heal this hangover,” thought young Michael as he wandered out of his room and down the hall. “Gee I miss her so, I haven’t seen her in so long! I barely remember what she looks like!”
“What’s this?” Mike asked, squinting against the harsh morning light. “There are so many older women on campus. Maybe one of them is Mom!” Yes, moms of every kind were all over campus, and young Michael didn’t know what to do. So many different shapes, sizes, and colors of moms! “Surely my mother must look like me,” Michael thought at first. He was right - many of the moms look exactly like their children. Some moms pile on copious amounts of makeup, some moms wear tight clothes, and some moms even act the same way. This saddened young Michael, because he couldn’t seem to find any moms that looked like him.
“But some of the moms here don’t look at all like the younger girls they are following around!” Michael exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone around him. Michael was very confused. He was sure his mother looked like him, but a lot of these women were short, stumpy bags of flesh compared to their offspring.
Michael was scared and wanted to find his mother, he was sure she was around because everyone else’s was.
“Are you my mother?” young Michael asked an older Chinese mom on the bus. The Chinese mom didn’t answer, but kept looking into a wet paper bag. “Is that my school lunch?” Michael asked. Again, the Chinese mom didn’t answer and started digging around in the soggy inside. She pulled out a long, wet, fleshy umbilical cord and gave it to Michael. “There must have been some translation problems,” thought Michael, “this definitely isn’t my mother.”
Michael got off the bus and headed into one of the local bars to flush the human remains. “That there an umbilical cord?” asked a beaten-looking mom in the alley next to the bar. “Yes,” answered Michael, “a mom that I thought was my mother gave it to me… Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be my mother would you?”
“Depends,” the shaggy downtrodden mother asked, “Depends on what you do with that umbilical cord.”
“Well I was just going to throw it away,” Michael said. “But if you want it you can have it!” He gave the older mom the umbilical cord and she instantly started boiling it in her coffee pot.
“You know, I may know where your mother is,” the old mom said, “But you’re going to have to snuggle next to me for a few hours while my food cooks.”
“Well, OK!” Exclaimed Michael as he snuggled next to the mom under a pile of cardboard.
Michael awoke a few hours later, cold, naked and confused. “I could really use my mom right now,” though Michael.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” a nice looking lady with short hair and red dress said, “I thought I heard someone say “mom” and I instantly answered. Silly me! I’m sorry!” Michael all of sudden got really excited. “This must be his mother! She’s so nice looking, and nothing like the past two mothers!”
“Oh you poor child! You are a mess!” the nice looking mom said, “Why don’t you get into my car, and I’ll take you home for a nice shower and a hot bowl of tomato soup.”
“I LOVE tomato soup and showers!” Michael had finally found his mother. She was everything he could remember: warm, caring, and generous. Now he wasn’t left alone on mother’s day.
The nice mom took Michael to her home, because she said she has the best showers and soup there, unlike Michael’s dorm food. “Dorm food! You must get so sick of that,” she said “I’ll get you a home cooked meal!” Michael was excited, and didn’t care that she insisted he eat his soup before getting clothes, because “he would get the warmest clothes after his shower.”
“My husband, er, your father is gone for a couple days. So you can sleep with me!” she said. Michael really liked this idea, because he used to sleep in his mom’s bed all the time, especially when he was scared. He really wanted to take a shower though, especially because the mom made him spill the soup all over himself to “get the smell of homeless sex” off him. He wasn’t sure how she knew what homeless sex smelled like, or why tomato soup, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream would get the smell off, but he did it anyway because she was a mom and moms always know best.
Michael was so excited to have a mom on mom’s weekend! He really didn’t want to lose her, so he did all the pushups and sit-ups in the shower he could. The mom said the video camera was so that he could make sure he had proper form, and to just keep doing as many pushups as he could.
“Now,” the nice mom said “why don’t we grab a few drinks. It is Mom’s Weekend right!”
“Right!” said Michael, “Can I borrow a coat? We can go to my friends apartment and play flippy-cup with all the other moms! It will be so fun!”
“No, I was thinking we could stay in. It’s been so long since we talked, I feel like you’re not even my son anymore!” the nice mom whimpered.
“Wait. Are you my mother?” asked Michael, now starting to remember his mother and his old house.
“Of course I am!” cried the nice mom, “How dare you say I’m not your mother!”
Michael was scared, and above all else didn’t want to lose his mother again. “Okay,” Michael conceded, “We can just stay here and catch up, like the old days.”
“Good,” nice mom said, “We can start with your favorite drink – vodka tonic, don’t mind if it doesn’t taste right, you probably just don’t remember the way I used to make them.”
She was right, the drink didn’t taste right. Michael took a big gulp and made a sour face. “Whoa Michael said, this sure is much stronger than the drinks on campus!” Michael started feeling very tired.
“Oh no!” shrieked the nice mom, “Here, why don’t you go lay down in my bed.”
Michael felt at ease as his mom climbed into bed and put her arms around him. “I know who you are,” he said “You are not an old Chinese woman, a homeless woman, or a broomstick. You are a lady, and you are my mother.”