I think she knows…

My mom lost her filter as she got older, demented.  That was not her (that is me and was my grandmother – her mom) but not my mom.  She has/had a wicked wit and sense of humor but had a filter and common courtesy.  We live in SE Wisconsin – home to a lot of ‘healthy’, big, farm-fed folks.  I consider myself one of them. We will go to breakfast or out and she will make a face, give me the eye and most often comment – out loud – on someone’s size.  My mom is not tiny and in her past, she had years of being overweight, as most of us do/did.  I will catch her and usually cut her off at the pass, thankfully her brain still receives that signal and holds her tongue until we get outside or washes away as most recent thoughts/memories do with Dementia.  (Sidebar Coach Pat Summitt referred to is as footprints in the sand, the memories or thoughts are gone with the next wave).  We have been playing this game for a bit as there is again no shortage of big folk in SE Wisconsin, especially at restaurants.

This one time we go to the doctor and there is short, wide woman in at the desk as we come in.  I see Dorothy turn and the words about to come out of her mouth.  I do the ‘zip it’ signal and she complies as I set her in the waiting room and check her in.  However, this gave her ample time to stare at the woman.  I go and sit next to her and she says “that is a big lady, she’s got a keister on her”.  I look at her and sush her, she says “well I think she knows”.  I stifle a full-on laugh and say “yes I am sure she does but she doesn’t need you pointing it out to the whole waiting room”.  “Hmmph” and off to a magazine she goes.  I think we are done…

The woman spills her purse, bends at the hips and my mom turns to me “that is three in there”.  I bite my collar to not laugh out loud.  This is a riff on a Lucyism (my grandmother who was filter free and not the least bit concerned about anyone’s feelings – good German stock that one).  The Lucyism is to a person with a good size ass, walking “that is two pigs fighting in a pillowcase”  shortened in our family to “two pigs in a pillowcase” for my mom to say “three” meaning “three pigs fighting in a pillowcase” that is just damn funny.

I have said it before, old folks are like little kids.  Honest plain and simple.