Let me preface this by saying I am a person who knows herself pretty well. I pride myself on how I analyze my actions and my health in order to better understand me, and then how to change what needs to be changed to make myself a better person. Having said that, the following goes to show I am not on top of it as much as I thought.... ahem... and the mayhem begins.
I recently had another oral surgery. When they knock you out you have no memory of falling asleep, waking up, talking to the Dr. nor going home! I swore (of course), that I would absolutely have complete control of myself and of my brain. Many many hours later I awoke only to find that some of my dreams were reality, and my reality was skewed. I said a few bad things, but I did have some control over myself in public even though I was not aware that I was not aware! The rest will be told from my daughter's point of view.
Hey all. Like Mom said, usually she has a pretty good grasp on her self awareness. So the few times she does get a bit 'loopy', my dad and I love to tease her about it. I suppose us teasing her last time is what prompted her to pay extra attention to how she behaved this time... and that's what made her behavior so funny.
When I came into the recovery room to see how Mom was doing post-op, she had her shirt on, albeit askew, and her zip up sweater half way on (and inside out.) So without hesitation, as she was spinning and trying to put her sweater on, I took it off of her, put it on the right way and helped her sit on the edge of the bed. The nurse informed me we'd have to wait for the doctor and she'd be back shortly. It wasn't until we were alone that Mom finally noticed I was there.
She smiled at me then started just poking her lip. Here are just a few things she said:
"This lip isn't mine..." (resulting in me just staring at her)
"It's a gummy worm."
"It's a gummy bear!" (pokes it some more)
"Come here.. come here!!" at this point, I go over to her and she quickly grabs my finger and starts poking her lip with my finger. "Look. SEE? You can't feel it! It's not mine! You can't feel it!"
I just stifled my laughter and nodded.
I sat back down and she kept poking away.
After a bit she points to an empty spot on the bed beside her.
"Was Michael just here?"
"No, Mom."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, he's at school, remember?"
"...oh." *pokes lip more*
After poking her lip some more, she....well... she tried to say "I'm not as think as you loopy I am." (To be funny.)
What she actually said was, "See? I'm not as sagrghlkfsadfkjagar I am.... I'm trying to be clever. I'm not as sdlgkhajksdfksg I am...
...nope."
At this point, I lost it. But it gets better.
She then got up and walked across the small room to poke at her/not her lip in the mirror. Seconds after she satisfied her urge to poke and sat back on the bed, she got up to go look in the mirror again... and again... aaaaand again.
During the last visit to the mirror (last time for a few minutes, anyway) she huffs and says "That's not mine!" and flops on the bed like a mad little kid.
At this point, I can only assume she happened to notice her clothing was...ya know...on; and she says "SEE??? I put on my own shirt and on and I remember everything. You can't find me funny loopy things now."
You can't find...me funny...loopy...things...now..
Yep...
And to make it even better, what did she say literally 10 seconds later?
"...when did I put my sweater on? I don't remember putting my coat and sweater on? Have we been here long?"
And cue her getting up 3 more times in a row to poke her lip in the mirror and indignantly state that it is, of course, not hers.
Now, I have to add here, that before she left, the nurse gave us a small bag of goodies for Mom to take home. Before her fourth trip (this time around) to the mirror, she noticed the baggie and looked inside. She was like a little kid on Christmas opening their stocking. "OooOoOOOoooh! I have a tiny toofpaste for my widdle mouf, and a new toofie brush!"
She then visited the mirror, and on her way back to the bed she spotted the baggie where she had just left it in my lap moments before. "OOh! Is that mine? Let me see! OooOoOOOoooh! I have a tiny toofpaste for my widdle mouf, and a new toofie brush!"
I shouldn't have said anything, but at this point, I couldn't help it. I said, "Mom... you already looked through that like 30 seconds ago." Now here is where I have to give her props. She must have realized something was off, because she immediately defended her loopy self with "So?...maaaaaybe I just wanted to look through it twice!" (this is her EXACT face)
Whatever you say, Momma... whatever you say. lol
Three different times throughout our wait, she mentioned getting food too. So I promised her we would on the way home...three times.
The rest of the wait for the doc was spent with her snoozing on the bed and me jotting down what she said. At one point between naps she asked "Who are you texting?" I just flat out told her, "I'm writing down everything funny you say because if I tell you later, you aren't going to believe me."
As soon as we get in the car, Mom, of course, discovers the mirror.. and she proceeds to spend about 3 solid minutes doing this:
Now I have to warn you, the rest of this will get a bit inappropriate at times. I have to preface this by letting you know that the night before surgery, Mom and I watched Django Unchained for the first time. It was a hilarious movie and we love it. However, if you haven't seen the movie, the "n-word" is used ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN times throughout the movie.
Director Quentin Tarantino took a stand on the use of the word. A stand that the actors agreed with, if you use a word enough, it becomes meaningless. Also, the use of the word wasn't exactly inaccurate for the time period in which the movie was set, but I digress.
Mom is very goodie two shoes, usually she's politically correct (even if being PC is ridiculous and annoying at times) and she is most certainly not racist. (And if you're going to say "if you have to say she's not racist, she's racist." Shh.. No. She's my parent and I know her. Don't believe me? Ask one of my best friends who just happens to be black. Anyway.... on with the story)
Django must have stuck with Mom because after we got going, she poked her lip some more and say "I gots dem n*gger lips."
I just looked at her and was caught between shock and laughter and said "WHAT did you say?"
To which she promptly responded with a pretty darn accurate Mush Mouth impression.
At this point, I'm cracking up. Oh...my...god.
But wait! There's more...
THEN she decides to start quoting Django with her 'perfect slave impression.' She tried (I think) to recite several of Samuel L. Jackson's lines from the movie... I couldn't understand much, but what I could understand was...interesting.
Soon though, I guess she tired of her slave impressions, and needed a cigarette. Probably not the best decision when you have a numb mouth that you insist isn't yours, but hey...what can ya do? She starts searching through her purse...digging around...shaking it a bit...then screams "COME HERE, YOU STUPID BITCH!!!"
...she was talking to her lighter.
She finally catches the "stupid bitch" and lights up her cigarette.
Now again, for this next part, I have to give a bit of back story.
I loved Land Before Time growing up. Who didn't, right? Well, one of the songs that just stuck with my mom was "Big big big big waaaterrr"
and when my mom wants to (fake) guilt me into doing something, she'll sing "bad bad bad bad dauuughter." and I'll cave.
Near the dentist's office, there's a Graeter's Ice Cream shop..on the opposite side of the road from me, and it's rush hour. Mom says "You passed up Graeter's. You're a bad daughter." I expected her to start singing like she usually does, joking around.
"You passed it. Bad daughter. You don't love me."
So of course, I go to make a U turn at the next area...because she's starting to get more and more 'Mommy Dearest' on my butt... I just said "I hope I can make a U turn here."
She goes, "If you get pulled over, just tell them I'm on drugs and I made you."
"That's probably not the best idea, Mom."
"I'm on drugs...and I made yo--TURN HERE!"
Instantly, I turned...the wrong way...going in the Exit end of a parking lot..in front of a cop.
Lucky for me, he didn't bother coming over.
Mom was still smoking when I parked. Then it started to rain. She had her window cracked so her smoke would leave the car....then the rain started to hit her.
Remember how Lucy used to cry when Ricky wouldn't give her her way? That loud, kind of nasally 'cry?'
As soon as a few drops hit her, that was exactly what Loopy Mom did.
"AHHHHHH!!!! It's raining on meeeeeeeeeeee."
*instantly serious*
"...are you back yet?"
"Back from where, Mom?"
"Getting pastries...with bavveverien...bavevevien..bavuvilan.... Cream"
"No..no I haven't gone in yet. I'm waiting for you to finish your cigarette so we can go in and you can pick out what you want."
"Oh..ok"
She puts out the cigarette and hops out of the car. I took off after her because she was already stumbling toward the crosswalk.
Luckily the rain let up, because on the side walk ahead of us there was an old school phone booth. If you've ever seen Harry Potter, you're familiar with the kind.
She starts trying to pry it open saying "Come on!!! Let's go to the Ministry of Magic!!"
I said "Mommy...we can't" as if she were 5 "You aren't a witch or a wizard, so we can't go in."
Without missing a beat, she stamps her foot and yelled "I'M A SQUIB!"
I'm betting the old couple walking past us found that pretty amusing.
The trip into the bakery was uneventful, thank goodness, and she picked out 6 doughnuts and made it back to the car, mostly without incident. She did try to get back to the Ministry of Magic again, and cursed the Minister of Magic for locking her out.
By the time we got back in the car, it was pouring again.
Now, for some reason, some guy was jogging down the road in shorts and a tank top...in the pouring rain.
I'm not sure Mom realized that her window was down...nor am I sure she realized the guy was jogging on the sidewalk about...oh...two feet in front of our car, but she saw him and yelled out, "DUDE! IT'S RAINING! PUT A FUCKIN' UMBRELLA OVER YOUR HEAD!"
Yep.. my goodie two shoes Mom, ladies and gents.
We started back home...again...and she's happily munching her "bavuvian" cream doughnuts and I guess she caught her reflection somewhere.
She started poking her lips in the mirror again and said "Is my lip smooshy?"
*gasp* "I CAN DO A DUMB GIRL SMOOSHY MOUTH SELFIE!"
And the next 30 seconds were spent with her practicing different duckfaces.
The last big thing she did before giving in to loopy land and sleeping the rest of the way to meet my dad, was at a stoplight.
You know those people who feel the need to crank their bass and stereo so loudly that EVERYONE not only hears it but feels it? (If you do that...stop it. You're annoying... but in this one instance? Free entertainment.)
We pull up beside a guy like that in a big white SUV. His rap crap was bumpin' and thumpin' so loud that it was shaking all of the car windows.
Mom frantically starts grabbing for my phone.
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"I have to let it go?"
"Let WHAT go?" (I'm not worried my phone is about to fly out the window)
"I have to Let It GOOOOO Let it GOOO!!... turn it on and make it LOUD so boomy man can hear it!"
I didn't have the soundtrack on my phone at the time, but I had Pandora, so as fast as I could, I turned on my Frozen station. It didn't play Let it Go (which she pouted about) but it DID play Do You Want To Build A Snowman?
Cue my mom singing "DO YOU WANNA BUILD A SNOWMANNNNNN! IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE A SNOWMANNNN" at the big white car.
Whether or not he heard her, I don't know... I wasn't brave enough to look. Oh yeah...and she rolled her windows down to do it too.
When it was over, she passed out until we got to my Dad. He drives a semi and mom woke when she heard the truck. She looked at the empty Graeter's box in the floor and looked at me suspiciously. "So! You had Graeter's without me, huh?" (she was laughing)
"No...you had those, Mom"
"I did..?"
"Yeah."
"....Oh."
Dad helped her into the truck and apparently she slept most of the time.
But not before poking him and saying these four words:
"this lip isn't mine."
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