Wednesday, September 2, 2009


I called my mom this morning. I had to make sure that the last post about her and the chickens, hadn't crossed the line. "I was just about to drop you a note about that.", she said. Oh crap, I thought, I'll have to delete it and do another one. But no, that wasn't the case. It turns out that my mom has a pretty good sense of humor. The only two things she wanted me to know was that, "I never swore that much. You make it sound like every other word out of my mouth was a cuss word." That is true, every other word, a cuss word, would be my dad who could string together a volley of profanity like no other man I have ever known. My mom did admit to one thing, and that was that her favorite curse word when she was young, was the word shit. I do remember that, and in fact she would often just let loose with a string of "shit, shit, shit, shit," when she was very upset, thus scarring little Alan for the rest of his life. The one thing that she wanted to stress however was that she no longer swears like that, after all she is a great grandmother.

The second thing she wanted to let me know, is that my dad doing the Sunday fried chicken didn't start after the chicken hacking incident. She told me that it started after he told her that he could make fried chicken as good as his mom. So she said "Fine, there's the kitchen, the frying pan, and the stove.". It turned out that he could actually do good fried chicken, although nothing like his moms. So in an act of pure genius, my mom enlisted my little sisters to do a little subversion. She had them tell my dad that his chicken was so superior to my mom's that they wanted him to always do the Sunday chicken. With the stroke of my dad's ego, my mom had managed to get herself a day of rest. From that time on, Sunday was the day dad made fried chicken.

Of course now I have to call mom again today, just to make sure I haven't put my foot in my mouth with this post. Wish me luck.


  1. I guess you inherited the cuss thing from both parents. I've heard the shit, shit, shit thing often as well as the other string of words that made the neighbors close their windows.

  2. I think we all have to realize that Mom's "shit, shit, shit" refrain probably came from her commenting on ALL the diapers she changed on 11 kids! Back then there were no disposable diapers, they were cloth and there was NO service. She washed them herself and hung them on the line to dry...until Dad finally broke down and got her a dryer! She is entitled to her mantra, she earned it! BTW, I trully believe that our Dad was the originator of the "F***, F***, F***" use that we hear all over the place now. He was a master curser!

  3. OK, now I feel bad, knowing that your mom reads your blog, because I'm pretty sure I've said FUCK in the comments.

    Anyway, your Mom sounds super cool.

  4. It's okay Syd. She does not have a computer, and when we tried to give her one it didn't work out. She just couldn't get the concept of working a mouse.

    So she gets my little stories every day by a one sided fax sort of deal. It allows her to get emails printed out automatically but she cannot read the comments.

  5. Oh Alan - these last 2 stories are hilarious! Bet you miss that fried chicken too.

  6. To this day there is no better fried chicken than the stuff dad used to make on Sunday. I know it was the corn flake crumbs and I have always made mine the same way, except I use skinless boneless chicken now. No way I'm cutting anything up. Let us not forget too the horrible waste of a pan of that delicious chicken getting thrown across the kitchen during one of the better fights they had. I felt terrible that day, not because of the fight, but because of the chicken.