Shit My Mom Says

My 4 foot 9, 63 year-old, French Canadian mother is unintentionally the most hilarious person on earth. True story. Because English is her second language, a lot of funny shit comes out of her mouth. She mixes metaphors and messes up phrases with hilarious results. And thanks to the wonders of the internet, she’s now taken her hilarity to my hotmail account.


My parents recently moved and they needed a new BBQ so I told them to find one they liked and I’d email the money.

Sidenote: the process of explaining to my mother and 74 year-old father the mechanics of how one can, indeed, email money, drove me to drink. Heavily. And prompted my mother to deem the entire process ‘witchcraft.’

Anyhoodle, so earlier this week my mom called to let me know they found the BBQ they wanted. I emailed the money and thought it was the last I’d hear of it. Alas, it was not to be. I got a phone call from my mom during which she pretty much gave me the step-by step of everything that happened from the moment they set foot in the store to the precise second where my father opened the box and said ‘Fuck.’ Turns out this particular BBQ has the kind of instructions that usually accompany a piece of IKEA furniture called a Flemenhaken or a Uberskultonmer (a coffee table and hunting rifle, respectively). Or something. After listening patiently to my mother for 14 minutes I had to interrupt and tell her I was being mugged (not true). She grunted something like “umhingimblerp”, clearly annoyed that her rant – err…I mean super interesting story – had been interrupted, and went on to describe the apparently heroic and death defying WALK DOWNSTAIRS to the basement she had to suffer through in order to retrieve my father’s toolbox. At this point I told her I had been shot and needed to hang up as emergency rooms frown on cell phone use. Her response was something along the lines of “I’ll call you when we’re done with the BBQ.”

Cut to a few hours later and I arrive home to discover this email. As a note, I did not edit this one bit. This is exactly how my mom wrote it. And to reiterate:she has NO IDEA she’s being hilarious and perverted. Which only makes me love her more. So here’s the email. For reference, my father’s name is Hank.

Screwing is very tirening!  Expecially at our age. It took 3 hours to put it up!…On the instructions it says that we have to be 2 to do it!…It was also much easier because with his big fingers Hank cannot always find the holes and reach the nuts and bolts in thight little corners. So, now we are totally exhausted but ….WE DID IT….WE PUT IT UP…I’m so exited!….Now we need a rest.  It took all of our energy, we were hot and swetting so we both took a shower afterwards and now it looks really good….Now that all the parts are together, we will enjoy a good meal.!…… 
Love from,
Mom and Dad
PS….It works very well.


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