I Was an Adult-Child Zombie and Fucked Up Mom's Special Day

Ah, me poor long-suffering, Mum. As if raising my difficult ass wasn't punishment enough, I fucked up her Mother's Day ROYAL this year.

You see, the Moms likes to watch the TV show, Sunday Morning. So this year for Mother's Day, I told the Moms that I would pick her up around 8:00, and we would go to our local coffee joint, grab a cuppa and a treat (on me), and then return to her house and watch Sunday Morning together. Picture it--SB's ass getting up before noon on a Sunday! Now, that's sacrificing for one's mother! Almost as BIG A SACRIFICE as giving birth! Not quite though, because SB was a pretty BIG fucking bebe, and I gave the Moms a sharp backache throughout most of the pregnancy.

Anyhoo, this all would have worked out great (the coffee/Sunday Morning/Mother's Day thing), if I hadn't taken that Ambien so late on Saturday night. SB was barely coherent when she picked up the Mom's for her special day.

In fact, I barely remember the drive to or from the java joint or swerving around on the road or even the tasty Snickerdoodle coffee. Moms said that she kept trying to have a conversation with me, and I was barely able to form a coherent sentence. Ambien, for some reason, really hits me, but it usually doesn't hang on like that. It was strange. At one point, the Moms even had to lean over and wipe a string of drool from between the coffee cup and my lips! Nothing says Mother's Day like wiping the drool from your grown child's lips!

I depressed me dear old mum. I nearly ruint her damn day. As if it wasn't bad enough that her son lives on the far East Coast, and she is away from her precious granddaughter. Mom started feeling a little depressed and dejected, because the kid she did have, who was local, was drooling and zoning out mid-sentence. It did not make her feel like a SUCCESS as a mother overall.

The somewhat awkward young man from across the street crossed over when he saw Moms out watering her flowers later in the afternoon and looking depressed and he gave her a big hug and asked how her Mother's Day was. That made her smile. It even touched her heart. Thus proving that wise old adage: you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.

Yes, I said I was sorry for drooling and fucking up Mother's Day! I had her over (after a lengthy nap) for a Pepperidge Farm cookie assortment (which I managed NOT TO EAT ALL OF) later in the evening. I was, in fact, conversant and a better, unzombified daughter in general. All was not lost, motherfuckers.