My Mother, Ladies And Gentlemen.

Yesterday I called my mother. She was getting ready to go to the funeral of a church friend's son. "Oh, forget it," I said when she asked what I needed. I was just calling because I've been tearing off large chunks of the day and sleeping. Do I have a thyroid problem? Should I stop eating sugar and flour? Do I have diabetes? Do I have Asian bird flu? In comparison, it seemed a pretty silly thing to worry about. I was still alive. There might be sitcoms later to watch. "No, no," she said. "Let's talk." So my mother indulges me. During the conversation, I hear some plastic phone noises, as if the cord is twirling around in its socket. "What's that?" I say. "Oh, it's just the phone. You know, the antique Princess phone I've got in my bedroom." Pause. "You know, an antique Princess. Just like me." We had a good laugh over that.