THINGS YOUR MAMA NEVER TOLD YOU....

......AND THINGS YOUR MAMA TOLD YOU THAT WERE OUT & OUT LIES


Let's start with the lies, shall we?

1. Mama: "If you eat fish, you have to eat a piece of bread with it."

Me: "Why?"

Mama: "If a fish bone gets stuck in your throat, the bread right behind it will wad up around it and go on down into your belly."

Me: "How?"

Mama: "It just does."

Me: "But...."

Mama: "Go clean your room."

2. Mama: "After you eat, you cannot go swimming for 30 minutes or you'll cramp up and die."

Me: "Why?"

Mama: "Because I said so."

Me: "If you go 29 minutes after you eat?"

Mama: "You'll die."

Me: "How do the cramps know when 30 minutes are up?"

Mama: "Go clean your room."

3. Mama: "Your best friend just died."

Me: "Mama! She was only 7."

Mama: "She went to live with Jesus."

Me: "Why?"

Mama: "Because she was so good Jesus wanted her to live with him."

Me: "Then I'm gonna be really really bad. Always."

Mama: "Jesus won't like that."

Me: "I know. That's why."

Mama: "You need to pray and ask for forgiveness."

Me: "No way."

Mama: "Go clean your room."

4. Mama: "You're taking science class in school this year."

Me: "Why?"

Mama: "Because you'll need it if you're going to become a nurse."

Me: "I'm not going to be a nurse."

Mama: "Well, you'll need it if you're going to become a teacher."

Me: "I'm not going to be a teacher."

Mama: "You'll definitely need it if you're going to become a missionary."

Me: "I'm not going to be a missionary."

Mama: "Those are your choices."

Me: "Mama, I'm going to be a writer."

Mama: "Girls become nurses or teachers or missionaries."

Me: "Pearl S. Buck was girl."

Mama: "Pearl S. Buck was a nom de plume."

Me: "No, it wasn't. (I read. I knew what a nom de plume was.) That was her real name and she was a girl."

Mama: "Your choices are nurse, teacher or missionary."

Me: "I'd rather be a dancing Catholic prostitute."

Mama (recovering from the vapors): "You're grounded for 6 months."

I was, too. 6 MONTHS. 6 MONTHS of NOTHING except church, school and piano lessons. Not one church social, not one picnic. 6 MONTHS.

So let me explain something here. You people have NO IDEA what a Catholic was to a Southern Baptist missionary.

Let me just give you an example of another real conversation between Mama and me.

Me: "Mama, why can't I play with her?"

Mama: "She's Catholic."

Me: "But, Mama...."

Mama: "She's Catholic and she's going to hell. Do you want to go to hell with her?"

Me: "No. Why is she going to hell?"

Mama: "I told you why. She's Catholic. All Catholics go to hell."

Me: "Catholic daddies?"

Mama: "Yes."

Me: "Catholic mommies?"

Mama: "Yes."

Me: "Catholic children?"

Mama: "Yes."

Me: "Catholic babies?"

Mama: "Yes."

Me: "Catholic dogs?"

Mama: "YES."

Me: "Catholic cats?"

Mama: "YES!!! If they're Catholic, they're going to hell."

Me: "Catholic hamsters?"

Mama: "Go clean your room."

OK, now the dancing part.

It was a BIG SIN to dance. BIG SIN. I cannot tell you the number of sermons I heard on the evils of dancing. It just wasn't done.

The prostitution part?

That's easy. Even though I had NO IDEA what a prostitute was, I heard countless numbers of sermons on the evils of prostitution.

Hence, the dancing Catholic prostitute thingie.

Do you know it wasn't until I was in my mid-30's that I EVER set foot inside a Catholic church (for a neighbor's funeral)? I'll have to tell you about that some time. Trust me here. It was HIFUCKINGLARIOUS!!!!

5. Mama: "If you kiss a boy, you'll get pregnant."

Me: "What's pregnant?"

Mama: "You'll have a baby."

Me: "I don't want a baby."

Mama: "Then don't kiss a boy."

Me: "Mama, I saw a woman that was going to have a baby. The baby wasn't in her mouth. The baby was in her tummy."

Mama: "Go clean your room."

6. Mama: "You need to learn to cook."

Me: "Why?"

Mama: "Because men don't like women that can't cook."

Blatant lie.

I can't cook worth a shit.

BWAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAAAA

OK. So what's THE most important thing my Mama NEVER told me?

Oh, that's easy.

Mama NEVER told me when you started getting old, you'd get gray hairs *cough* down *ahem* there. You know, downstairs.

When it happens, it will shock the shit out of you.

Me (dialing phone):

Sondi (daughter): "Hello."

Me: "You sitting down?"

Sondi: "Hi, Mama!"

Me: "When you start getting old, you're gonna go gray on your twat."

Sondi: "What?????"

Me: "Yep."

Sondi: "Mama, you lie!"

Me: "Ain't lying. Hairs. Gray."

Sondi: "Mama, that's not right."

Me: "Gray."

Sondi: "Mama, that's awful!"

Me: "Bye."

Sondi: "Mama, wait!!!"

Me: *click*

I need a shot.

Grey Goose, baby!

Your turn!

Tell.

:)

© 2007 HillCountryGal

Note: Tina :)