Let me tell you about my mom

First, I want to recount what an unbelievably mean lady said to a very young me at church one day. I think she ask me who my mother was, then she said something like this, "Oh, yes. She always has a frown on her face. She needs to stop frowning all the time."


That idiot needed to get to know Etta Mae. She missed out.


When I think of mama, I think of laughter. She absolutely loved, loved , loved to laugh. I never called home enough, I know, but every time I did it was a laugh fest. Mom would always want to tell a joke and she could never get them right. She'd blurt out the punchline at the beginning and fall over laughing. Then, I would laugh at her laughing and never know what the actual joke was.


My friends got cars before I did. I'd ask for them to swing by and pick me up. I felt bad enough that they had to give a ride to the car-less friend, so I tried to make sure I was ready.


One time I must have been in another part of the house or running behind when several showed up to get me. Mom greeted them and let them in. By the time I walked into the living room Mom had a live comedy show going.


I said, "Hey, I'm ready. We can leave."


Between laughs I got, "Hold on a minute. I gotta hear this!"


I never lacked for rides.