The weekend, as told from my mom
June 30th, 2004 by Sarin
On Sunday evening I was really tired from driving back from New Hampshire and was not even excited or the least bit thinking when my mom came home from her weekend trip to New York. I as usual just sat in front of the computer, and just went along like nothing was going on. I just didn’t want to listen to whatever she had to say. Note the following is translated for easier reading.
“Sarin, come here!”
(non enthusiastically)”What…”
“What did you do this lid?”
My mom was freaking out after she tried to pry open one of the buckets that held her dry rice. If I remember correctly, I sat on that bucket drunk.. and on the phone, not even considering all the other chairs in the area. This certain time I sat on it though, I caved it in and made it hard to open.
“I just sat on it”
FYI me and mom are VERY repeat VERY non communicative. The smallest words will make sense.
“PARTY LAST NIGHT, EH?”
“I wasn’t here last night, I had a.. ” softly whispering, “party on Friday”
“YOU BROKE IT!”
“It was only me…”
“No chairs to sit on?”
I had no excuse, I just sat on it because it was out in the open and I can’t chew gum and talk on the phone at the same time.
“No, it was only me”
“Noo, you broke the picnic table”
JT sat on one side of my picnice table and broke it. It came very unexpectedly, and I knew it was a big deal. When I moved into this house, that table was there. It has been upgraded and painted a huge deal since then, but it was just not cool for my mom to see.
At this point she wouldn’t believe it was only one person.
“It was only one person, one on one side”
See how I am being kindergarten in my english. This is how I have to talk.
“Right”.
She said that very meanly. After that little happened, she waited to get settled before she asked me what food I served.
“None”
“No food?”
“No, just beer.”
“Two bins of beer!? Die!”
Yeah, we filled two recycling bins with beer. I didn’t hide them because I didn’t hide them last time. I guess she caught on. When she said die, it was translated. In Khmer, it means the same as ‘Oh my God’
In the meantime and later on the night, she heard gossip about the party from other Cambodian residents in the area. I believe one of my cousins was at my house when the party went on, but he is here like every night. I think she heard about my party from his mom or somehow.
“So who was here, your girlfriend?”
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“She was wasn’t she!!!”
Now, I normally lie to my mom. I do it to her all the time. It’s for her own good. But I swear I was not lying. She had heard from one of my cousins back in November that I was seeing somebody, but the news probably got to my mom really late. She asked me about it once, and I told her no, but she won’t just drop the idea so quick.
“NO, I DON’T EVEN HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!”
(…)
Her silence told me that she didn’t believe me.
Boy, was she SO wrong.
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