That’s me in my mom’s belly! So that’s my mom pregnant, on vacation, on a ladder, pickin’ some California sun-kissed citrus (and those are my dad’s sideburns). I do believe she tried riding some roller coasters on that vacation but The Man kept her down.
I’ve mentioned my mom here a lot: veganizing her recipes, tracing my respect of animal welfare, subtly hinting that I might be pleased if she were to buy me roller skates. I’m happy to say she and my dad have both been–and continue to be–a big part of what I am.
My favorite Mom story has to be from when I was 6 or 7. On my way home from school some kid was misbehaving so the driver made good on his threat to turn the bus around and take us back to school. We were miserable. The parents, meanwhile, were more than a little worried, since the school took for friggin’ ever to call them. Abductions were big news in the early ’80s.
So my mom came to the school to take a bunch of us home…but not until she gave the school superintendent what for. In front of all us kids, she ripped that lady a new one. The superintendent even grabbed my mom’s arm and Mom gave her—along with the laser eyes I inherited from her—the “Don’t you ever touch me again.” Go MamaBear!
It was more than just us watching an authority figure getting chewed out. Somebody was standing up for us, pointing out that we had rights, that we deserved respect. Extrapolate from that what you will.
Happy Mother’s Day, lady. I wouldn’t be the troublemaker I am without you.