Every year my mom comes over and does all her Christmas shopping online. She usually hates shopping, but loves this.
We eat Chinese food and then I operate the computer while she points to the things she wants to buy me, my siblings, and my niblings. It’s kind of hoot because she sighs, gasps, and rolls her eyes a lot.
“Seventy-eight dollars for jeans that already have holes in them? I throw out my jeans when they get holes. I think these ones were twelve dollars.”
It’s a lot of shopping crammed into a short amount of time and by the time we’re done I get the swirly eyes.
Today, as we were eating eggrolls, she launched into the litany of people who died. As she was going through this list of people I don’t know, I thought, I’m “my mom greets me with a list of dead people” years old. Sadly, my mom seems to know a few men who have committed suicide recently. And she lost one of her favorite customers. From the sounds of it, it’s been a rough few weeks for the baby boomers of Savage, Minnesota — especially my Uncle Wayne who lost a good friend.