Not a warning for me, but a treasured Mom-of-Doom note. When my older brother took up riding a few years ago, my mom sent me a photo of him in his full riding habit, seated on his horse. On the back was written (as best I recall):
“Doesn’t he look handsome? I hope he won’t fall off and break his neck just like Christopher Reeve.”
Sounds like my grandma, Miss Mapp. The other day I got an email from her telling me that my aunt and uncle have just purchased the apartment they had been renting - but instead of being happy for them, because it´s a really nice flat, she wrote: “Well, now they´ll be paying mortgage for years to come and they better hope none of them loses their job or the economy breaks down because then they´ll be out on the street.”
Translation of Momspeak:
Trust me, I’m a mother.
I can’t believe nobody in this thread has posted this link yet. This woman’s mom sets the Gold Standard for RPDs.
I’m pleased to report that my daughter just assured me she hasn’t been able to post in this thread because I’ve never uttered something noteworthily strange like that to her. She hasn’t been able to hear my thoughts, fortunately…
#1 is plausible, but doubtful. She can say gushy things all the time.
#2 Does not at all apply. She knew the nature of the emergency document we were sending off and that I just had to call across the country long enough to say “okay, it’s sent, this is the tracking number.”
I’m one of the few who actually has cell phone manners. My ringer is always on vibrate, and if I’m with company and it goes off, I just check the display to see who is calling, so at a more appropriate time, I can excuse myself to call them back.
Never would I interrupt a visit with Mom to answer a cellphone.
Besides, it doesn’t explain other WTF Warnings of Doom:
“I don’t think I like the idea of you riding your bike when you’re sleepy. You could doze off while you’re riding and fall off.”
I would like to share my **Nutty Mother ** story with all of my close personal friends.
When I started driving, my number one spot to go to was my Aunt’s house about 10 miles away. Because I was a young, cute girl driving by myself at night ( not late, just dark) I was a target for perverts, dirty old men and creeps according to my mom. Never mind the fact that I always had my windows up, locked the doors and had a baseball bat on the floor of the passenger seat. Now I just would use my steel coffee mug as a weapon.
So, in the happy little world in her head, she got the bright idea… and this was so mortifying then that naturally, it is now hysterically funny. of dressing up a couch pillow with a coat and hat on it so I could seat belt it into the front seat so my new manly friend - who was never named…all the more shame- could protect me from the perverts lurking out there.
Imagine being 16 and dealing with this. It is something straight out of a John Hughes film. The fact that I never did drugs is amazing.
When I would drive somewhere with a cousin, a guy, and it was night, I had to have the makeshift man set up in the backseat to protect both of us. My cousin naturally, would knock down the guy with a swat the second we got away from our house. " What does she think I am, chopped liver?"
I cannot tell you how many times friends who I’d give a ride to would ask, “whats with the couch pillow in a jacket?”
And my closest friends would all say in a voice that told me they shared my pain, " Don’t ask. Her mother is protecting her."
This is occaisionally brought up around my mom, who naturally, does not view it in the same light as the rest of us who are practically wetting ourselves over the recollection. In her world, she saved me from a fate worse that death or something, and scarred my poor self esteem with her random nuttiness.
And I can’t wait to try the same thing on my kids at that age, just to show them what a loon, but in a good way, their grandma was to me then and they will wonder why very little embarasses me.
So the pervs would think you were being protected by a short, fat, headless man with no arms or legs?
Nowadays you’d get pulled over by cops who’d think you were trying to cheat into the car pool lane.
hmmm:
:D:D:D:D:D
I was once caught with my friends making prank phone calls. My mom told me that I could’ve killed someone.
My mom had a fit when I considered buying a Volkswagon Jetta–because her “cousin was KILLED in a Volkswagon!” (It was a Beetle, back in the early '70’s, I think.) I got a really dirty look when I asked if her cousin had been killed in a Ford did that mean I couldn’t buy an Escort?
My SIL’s mom–a NURSE–says eating ice will give you anemia.
That is one of the funniest things. Thanks for making my night here in Mosul, Iraq a bit better. Thank your mum too 
My mum is sure I’m going to set my self on fire or electrocute myself or something equally horrible. This one time I was unscrewing a phone socket from the wall and she told me to stop it because “You’ll electrocute yourself.” Instead she told me to go chop down the tree in the back garden, with an axe. I question her logic here.
But…but…everyone knows that Thylacines are extinct! 
shirley ujest, it is really ironic that there is a company that makes a “ride-a-long man.” it is a soft sculpture man that you belt into the seat next to you, so people don’t think that you are driving alone. the “man” is marketed as a safetty device for women who travel long distances alone.
your mum could have made millions, like mrs. nesmith, if she had only taken a pat. out on her idea.
rocking chair the irony is that my mom did buy herself the torso of a mannequin, nick named Harvey, for this purpose for herself. But she has never belted him in next to her at all because, in her words, *it looked kinda obvious that he was a dummy. *.
So, Harvey, has become a fixture on her bathroom countertop wearing an old wig, eye shadow, a scarf.
Harvey is my mom’s cross dressing male friend.
I hope I inherit him one day, so that I can dress him up in frou frou.
Heee.
OMG she was right, no wonder I smell so bad!
I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to the OP, my childhood memories are just that, my childhood memories. When others talk of childhoods my memories come up with the same feelings as anyone elses. It is just that to those not from my life all my stories seem a little shall we say, extreme. I really should remember not to post them in light threads, sometimes I forget I come from bizzarroworld which I guess makes me a :wally
ms ujest, that is awesome!!! i can just picture him.
i hope you get a chance to take harvey on many wonderful adventures. just remember to wear a hat of your own. you can’t go on an adventure, without a hat. (you might lose your head or something…)
Cicada2003, I wouldn’t blame your mom. We moved out of the Midwest, and in the wee hours of the morning, just a few days after we’d settled in to our new house, I woke up in a panic halfway down the stairs, heading toward the cellar before I realized (roughly in this order):
I might add that I can now sleep through the VFD siren. I imagine that if we ever move back to the Midwest, I’ll wake up some midsummer morning to discover that our house has been transported to the Land of Oz, or possibly Nebraska.