My mom googles for yahoo
lololol
My parents are both long dead. My evil dad, who never missed a chance to remind me I was worthless, still lives on in a little spot in the back of my head. He left his voice in their as a curse. I’m a lot better at escaping that crap, but it took a long time.
When my parents where in their 50’s, they bought the local diner place and owned it for a total of four years, which made them an expert in restaurant operations. It is (was - they’re both deceased now) a nightmare taking them anywhere to eat, because the waitress will be too slow, the gravy wasn’t like the gravy at their cafe, the food isn’t hot enough, or the silverware wasn’t on the table the moment they sat down.
One time they were at a similar diner in the next town over and ordered a cheeseburger. That place wasn’t the greatest at presentation: the burger arrived with a slice of cheese sitting on top of the burger, BUT IT WASN’T MELTED! That wouldn’t stand so they sent it back. Twice. The third time they got it back, the chef “accidentally” left it under the broiler too long and the cheese was pretty charred. They stormed up to the manager and had a loud discussion about the proper way to train the staff.
Every time I ate with them, without fail one or the other of them would send their food back for some trivial reason (too much pepper, not enough onions, etc.). We’d usually be done eating our food when their food finally arrived again.
So does mine; On AOL no less! Everything with her is yahoo this, and yahoo that. She can’t/won’t navigate to anything unless it’s through yahoo. The bookmarks/favorites I’ve set up for her through the years go unused.
My parents still have AOL too. 
My mom still ekes out every last piece of the loaf. Come on, you don’t need to eat stale bread, rationing ended sixty-five years ago, and merchant sailors aren’t still dying to bring wheat across the Atlantic to you anymore
My mother kept a brown paper bag in the drawer under the electric range. When a loaf of bread got down to the heels/misshapen pieces, she would toss them into the bag. They would stay there until she needed to make stuffing for a roasted fowl of some type. At that point, she would pull out the paper bag, lay it on the floor, and walk on it to crush the stale bread into crumbs. Finally, she would pour the crumbs from the bag directly into the mixing bowl for the stuffing.
She was doing this right up until four years ago, when she finally moved into a retirement apartment that didn’t have a drawer under the range.
my aunt has a thing that if someone likes something that : 1 No one else will be able to eat/drink it it for any reason it is just reserved for that person
2 if you like a certain thing to eat or drink that will be the only option you get for the rest of your life ……
unless she doesn’t like it herself them you might get some once or twice a year if your lucky
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My mom lives several hours away, so whenever she comes to visit it’s a huge event. The thing is, she comes to visit and her version of “visiting” is walk in the door, turn on the TV, park on my chair and not get up for a week.
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While on said chair, mom comandeers the remote control, while we watch endless episodes of NCIS reruns, insisting, “Well, there’s just nothing else on.” Oh, and did I mention she also insists that we get cable for her while she’s here? And we have just one television? She keeps “suggesting” we get an extra one so she can have it in her bedroom. She visits once a year for god’s sake.
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Her inability to deal with technology or go without some sort of entertainment. If she’s visiting and she can’t figure out how to turn the TV on, she will call me at work, crying, telling me I need to call back IMMEDIATELY to help because it’s an emergency. I call back and “Well, the cable went out. What else was I supposed to do?” Oh, I don’t know - wait a couple of hours if you refuse to fix it yourself?
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Her priorities. I quit my job a long, long time ago (I’ve since found a new one); when I did, even though I didn’t have a job to go to at the time, she insisted I needed maid service. To clean my home. Because, “Oh, overly - that is the LAST thing you want to go without. After all, your husband is working. You can afford it.” Ummm, can afford and should pay for are two hugely, vastly different things. And my husband working doesn’t equal carte blanche on his checking account. It just doesn’t.
Mother (75 yo) constantly pushing every homeo/naturo/quacko remedy and wellness junk at every opportunity. Everything is a miracle cure that has made her feel wonderful and staved off horrible colds and flus that she is sure she would have caught otherwise, but is forgotten a few weeks later and replaced with the latest other fad.
“Mom, I thought apple seeds had arsenic and you’d purged all apple products from your life?”
“Yes, it felt great. sips apple juice. Now let me tell you about this great salt pyramid, it has a light inside it and I have it mext to my bed and I’ve never breathed easier in my life! I bought you one also…”
When I tell her that I’d noticed no difference in how I felt using any of this crap, it’s always “You didn’t commit to it” or “Are you sure, you look great, it must have helped!”
A little more light hearted than many so far:
My parents are in their 70’s. When we visit, if my or my wife’s phone beeps because of a text message or other notification or whatever, there is an immediate puzzled look from them and “what was that?” Every time. And we visit every month or two, so this happens a lot.
Vote for Trump
There was never a single thing which my mother did that my uncle didn’t do better. At least according to my grandmother. It was extended down to us grandkids. They were just better people, I guess.
Mom and Grandma has come over to visit me in Japan in the mid 90s, and I took them around the country. My mother was saying how much she appreciated me, when Grandma interrupted her to say how every mother needed a special child and how lucky she was to have her son. I wanted to throw her out the window.