The Name Game

She’s speechless. I should write down the date and time and play the lottery with the numbers. That almost never happens.

“YOU HAVE??????”

She is as curious as any cat. I am tempted to toy with her for a bit. But I don’t. It is Mothers Day. Time to play nice.

“Actually Mom, I didn’t exactly meet him.”

“You didn’t?” Her voice suggests confusion. I guess that she is thinking I have gone to the Dark Side and have begun to partake in Internet Dating. As if dating weren’t dicey enough a proposition. Now we have to go and throw in the evil of the internet. Surely Hell awaits us all.

“I wouldn’t say we ‘met’ so much as we reconnected,” I tease. I am going to drag this out until Tuesday.

"Who is it????!!!" She can barely contain herself.

"You won't even believe it Mom. Are you sitting down?"

"Cut it out! WHO??!!"

"Scott Bowersox."

She hesitates. It is a long pause. I could swear she's smoking.

"You're kidding me!" And she starts to gush. "Oh Liza, that's great! That's that cute guy from the band, right? The one you always liked? Remember my friend Joanne thought he was so good looking that day at the beach when he came to sit with us I thought you were going to have to beat her away with a stick like she's anything to look at good grief oh my God that's great tell me is he still as adorable as he was then?"


You really need a seatbelt when you talk to Mom.

"Oh Mom, he's even more adorable if you can believe it."


"Tell me does he treat you real nice? Why did I think he was married? What is he up to these days? Does he still live at the shore? I remember his family had that neat blue house. Are his parents still alive? Why do I remember that his Mom isn't living? She died, didn't she? And she was young! Right! Now I remember! How awful. How about his Dad? He looks like his Dad, doesn't he? So what does he do for a living? When was the last time you'd seen him and when did THIS all happen? Wow. Scott Bowersox. Who would have thought? So he's still real cute. How about that...."

And so on and so on with no end in sight. Mom was clearly firing up the brainwaves and her synpases were smoking through all the tidbits and recollections she could muster.

Me, I was happy to have the distraction of a positive topic, but secretly dreading that something unexpected would trigger a negative thought and we'd be at odds again.

Then suddenly she took an unexpected breath and said, "Well, Liza, I must run to the bathroom. He probably won't remember me, but please tell Scott I say hello."

"Oh Mom. He remembers you."

"He does?"

Really? Does she think she's that simple to forget???

"Oh sure, Mom. From that time you came to school to bring me my flag in your bathrobe and needed to get someone's attention. And hung your head out the window and yelled "Yooo Hooo!"

She began to laugh.

"Yep, Mom. The guy who came over to get the flag from you? That was Scott."

"Oh geez. How about that. Well, tell him hello from me. I really have to run!"

And with that, the phone call had ended without incident. And I was ready for another nap.