Tuck and Roll

A couple of years ago I spent Christmas in Virginia with my mom's family. I stayed with one of her younger sisters. My mom's older sister wanted to see me as soon as I had arrived of course. (She's strange this way. Well, some might just say she's strange, but that would be a whole other post.) This particular aunt was living with her son at the time because there had been a fire in her building and her condo had smoke damage. As any mother is apt to do, she was driving her son completely mad. Anyway, her son had to drive her to our aunt's house. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that around the same time there was the fire in the building, my aunt totaled her car. That's why her son was driving her around. When she arrived, she rang the doorbell. It took me no more than 60 seconds to reach the door. Upon opening the door, I looked up and down the street. My cousin's car was nowhere in sight. On Christmas Day I asked him about this.

"When you dropped your mother off the other day, did you even slow down?"

"A little. I told her,'We're approaching the house. Tuck and roll. Tuck and roll.'"

I thought of this because tomorrow I have to pick my mother up from the airport. I called her this morning to confirm this. She was rather short with me. My interpretation is that she is still pissed off with me for moving. I told my dad -- my sane parent -- that if she gives me any crap on the drive from the airport, I'm going to pull over to the side of the road and tell her to get the hell out of my car. (You don't understand. My mother is just insane enough that she might actually have the audacity to yell at me after I have been kind enough to get her.) Now that I think about it though, "tuck and roll" seems a lot more fun. Perhaps I should then toss her luggage out a little further up the road.

I suppose that this means she probably won't have any jewelry for me like she usually does.