New York, New York

There are a number of reasons that I’m probably not on the VIP list for the pearly gates.  I drink, I cuss, I think bad thoughts, and a few other not so proud of activities.  In spite of my less redeeming qualities, if there is any compassion in the universe then I’m hoping I can at least make it to daughter/sister heaven.   This weekend I took my mother and my niece to New York, a first time visit for either of them.  I should get at least of 1,000 brownie points for contemplating spending 4 days straight with my mother let alone traveling with her to a big city.  But I must have been feeling masochistic in the spring when I booked it.  I must say mom did great on the flight up until my niece decided to stir the pot by saying, “Look Granny, we’re landing in the water”.  Mother turned a nice shade of green, the knuckles went white and I now have a bruises running up and down my right arm.  But we landed safely with no other major incidents.   Our first day we just wandered Times Square, looked at the lights, had a few drinks in a cute Irish bar, a nice dinner and then off to bed.  About 3am the emergency alarm goes off in the hotel and Granny flies out of bed.  “Mother” I say, “were you smoking in the bathroom?”.  “Hell no I wasn’t smoking!  Get dressed we’ve got to get out of here, there’s an emergency”, she yells.  “Do you swear you weren’t smoking?”.  “Piss off” she tells me.  The eventually they come over the loud speaker and announce that there is no problem, ignore the alarm.  Mother, however, thinks they are trying to keep the truth from us so lays back down fully dressed including shoes, places her purse in her lap and lays there until the sun comes up.  The next day she was quite the trooper, operating on 2 hours sleep, braving the subway (she looked more terrified than the airplane ride), and walking a mere 20 blocks.  I think all the excitement cause her to have mini-meltdown at dinner that night as she got a case of the hysterical giggles that only subsided with the release of a good amount of tears.  Half the trip, mom spent making friends with the bellman and door guy.  By the end of the trip she knew their names, their families, how many and where their tattoos were (I have no clue how and I’m afraid to ask).  They were all sad to see her leave and found her little going away presents.   About 4 days with mom is my limit.  We were starting to fray at the seems on the plane ride home.  She decided to have a couple of wines on the ride home to loosen her nerves.  This of course only makes her more gregarious.  I agree to play cards with her before she starts talking to everyone around us.  She’s shuffling and fidgeting so I ask her what’s wrong.  My back hurts she tells me.  I need to get a boob reduction like you did.  Oh wait mom,  could you say that a little louder.  They only heard you 7 rows up.  I think they missed that in first class.  Besides I didn’t have a reduction I just had a little lift!   Can’t wait til next year’s trip.