Perhaps a Different Definition of Good Gossip

My mom is so cute.  My dad never lets her get on the phone when he’s talking to us, which means that, if she’s going to gossip about family, she either has to call when he’s not around or, apparently, learn to email.

So, yesterday, she sent me the cutest little bit of gossip, which has scandalized her down to her core, which I will not share with you, because she made me promise I would not.  But I will say that it is along the lines of someone drinking on Christmas day, and getting tipsy in front of children.  Oh the horror!

That’s how old-school Methodist my folks are.  I was tempted to write her back and tell her that shooting up heroin on Christmas day in front of the nephew was the only thing that got me through, but I decided that she might not get that I was joking, and after the deadly overdose of her favorite nephew a couple of years ago, it’s probably not as funny as it otherwise woud be.

Anyway, the whole thing reminded me of my favorite thing about my mom, which also is one of her most aggrivating traits: that she really does believe that she is as bad a sinner as anyone else.  And believe me, I get the theology behind “we are all sinners and fall short,” but my mom seems to really believe that, say, it’s a terrible shame that Charles Manson told those people to kill folks but she, too, is bossy and, therefore, there but for the grace of God goes she.

I, of course, wonder how a woman who cannot even bring herself to drink is going to bring herself to order mass murders, but I guess in her mind there’s a steep and slippery slope between telling people they ought to do their homework and telling people to kill folks.

Still, it tickles me.  I’m eagerly awaiting more gossipy emails from her.  I bet we next discover that the neighbor’s dog is sweet but often barks too loudly.  Ha.