Mother Knows Best

Patience isn't his strong suit but to his credit, it took nine calls before Michael finally lost it.

“I don't have time to measure the f**king blinds!” I heard him howl at his mother, “For God's sake, will you leave me alone! GOD DAYUM!” And with that he slammed the receiver down so loudly it woke all the dogs and made me jump.

The telephone rang again immediately.

“Dear Barbara,” his mother said icily, “Please tell my son if he ever raises his voice to me again,I shall not forgive him and will happily let him rot.”

“Dorothy, I can't......” I began and she cut me off with surgical precision.

“And please tell him that NICE people do not use coarse language under any circumstances!

ESPECIALLY his kind of coarse language and ESPECIALLY to their mothers! I simply will NOT tolerate it!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael in the doorway, flushed, breathing like a bull and heading in my direction.

“Yes'm,” I told Dorothy hurriedly, “I'll surely tell him, gotta go now, have a nice day....” and before he could get to my desk, I hung up the telephone.

“WHAT?” he snapped at me.

“Telemarketer,” I said at once, pleased with my own quick thinking and trying my very hardest not to laugh, “Life insurance or some such.” He didn't believe me for a second, of course, but we've been friends for a long time and we both tacitly agreed to let it go.

There's nothing quite like a family feud to push a person right to the edge and then, often with the most naive of intentions, give them an unthinking shove. With the business on life support, the mountainous debt growing daily, the house itself on the brink of collapse, and Michael's sight more precarious than ever, Dorothy's obsession with venetian blinds for the living room isn't currently on the radar nor is it likely to be.

What an amazing gift families have for not seeing what doesn't suit them.