My mom cooked dinner for ME!

Thud.

She came over yesterday to watch more Al Green on youtube. She's addicted. Anyway, she said "Call me tomorrow at 4 because I might cook dinner for you." (Which I took to mean cook for Evan. Because that's what she usually does.)

Anyway, when we got to her house I just went ahead and sat down and put on the most recent episode of "House" because I wasn't hungry yet. And it smelled like that baked chicken she makes that I hate.

Mom - Did you look in the pan?
Me - No, but it smells like chicken.
Mom - Well, everything's ready except the broccoli. I just have to put it in the microwave. It's one of those steam fresh bags. I LOVE them.
Me - Ok

So then after about 30 minutes I went over to the kitchen.

It was MY FAVORITE CHICKEN!

The one with tomato sauce & sour cream. Yummmmmmmmm. So I ate it. A lot, LOL. 2 thighs & a lot of egg noodles. And broccoli. And for dessert she had devil's food cake with chocolate icing.

My stomach was a little tight.

Then we sat for a while and at about 6:30 I said "Well I'm leaving so that Evan can do his homework. Thanks for dinner!"

Let me explain something.

When we lived in MD, the whole family, we had a 2 story 8 room house (not counting the bathrooms & kitchen). When we came here she had a one story house with 5 rooms built. It was just me & her by then so it was big enough. But she crammed 8 rooms worth of shit into 5 rooms. So there's really no room for a person with a walker or a wheelchair to get around.

Anyway, I had put on my michelin man coat and my gloves and all my shit and I was heading out. Then I tripped over one of the fucking shoes she always has in the floor and I fell.

She has this mesh garbage can beside her recliner. I flattened that. LMAO! And she has a wicker chest (like the kind you put dead bodies in) and I put a big hole in that. Heh.

I was cracking up. Because I KNEW I was going to fall even before I started falling. I tried to grab something to stop myself. I grabbed her 3 foot christmas tree (which is STILL up) so that was no help.

I think I laughed for 20 minutes. Especially after she showed me the garbage can.

Anyway, I was finally ready to get up. Plus I was getting hot with all my winter shit on inside her 80 degree house.

At home, I have a heavy couch that I grab onto and pull myself up. Her shit is light. Like if I were to grab it and try to pull myself up I would pull the couch on top of me.

So I said "Sit in my walker and I will pull up on that and it shouldn't move."

So I tried but in the middle of standing up she said some shit that made me laugh so I fell again and landed on her gout toe.

Hee Hee.

I told her to take some vicodin before she goes to bed and maybe it won't hurt tomorrow.

Anyway, I finally pushed the walker against the fireplace and stood up.

It only took an hour for me to finally get home.

I fell yesterday too. But it only took me 5 minutes to get up because I just had to crawl to the couch.

That was also her fault.

Because I got up to come to the computer to figure out what she had done that she couldn't see Al anymore.

Either the Michelin man coat or my mother are bad luck...