Masters of the Universe

I don't usually laugh at my own mom stories, largely because they're not very funny to me, even when they don't involve verbal abuse or insult. If they're funny, they're funny in a dry, ironic way, not in the way denoted by that chat term all you cool kids use. ROFLMFAO. There, I found it. I'm not that uncool.

Speaking of uncool, did you know that there was an experiment on the spotlight effect, i.e. one's perception that other people pay much more attention to you than they actually do. Prior to conducting the experiment, they ran some focus groups to determine which personality people would feel most embarrassed to display on one's t-shirt. Who turned out the be the anti-Che? None other than Barry Manilow.

You think I digress, but uncoolness and embarrassment, and perhaps spotlight effect, are quite on topic. I'm getting there.

Anyway, as I was saying, I rarely ROFLMFAO at my mom stories. Even when she complained to me that my high-tech body wash dispenser was inefficient, because too much of the product ended up on the shower walls-- the product being shower cleaner rather than body wash-- my reaction was one of concern and then incredulity rather than hysterical laughter. What was funnier to me than the fact that she actually pushed the button (and expected body wash to come out) was that she a) did not then realize that it was shower cleaner and proceeded to tell me that my body wash dispenser was inefficient and then b) upon my telling her that it was a shower cleaner, proceeded to lecture me on how it was a waste of money.

Then again, sometimes I laugh even when she is insulting me. Remember when I told her that I was going to see "Taming of the Shrew," and she matter-of-factly pointed out that I was a shrew?

Anyway, today I found myself in tears of laughter as I recounted a mom story at work. In a meeting. We were talking about pharmaceutical companies, and the discussion went something like this:

Colleague 1: They're cutting down on their freebies.

Colleague 2: It's just as well, because who wants to carry around a Viagra pen or incorporate into their decor a Cyalis clock.

Colleague 1: My son complained because I tried to send him to school with a Celebrex bag.

A.: My mother once made me... [wiping tears] go to work... [choking on laughter] with a He-Man thermos [wiping tears]. I was living with my parents while I was looking for an apartment in Boston, and every morning it was something else as I tried to get out of the house so I could catch the commuter rail so I could make the boat. It was usually, 'you don't need that sweater, it's hot out' or something. One morning, I was running late and didn't have time to finish my tea, so mom... [laughter, tears] went down to the basement and retrieved... [laughter, tears] a He-Man thermos. It was... [laughter, tears] hideous. It was so embarrassing. I balked, and she accused me of being overly concerned with what people thought. She said... [laughter, tears] the thermos was just fine, she saw nothing wrong with it. I didn't have time to argue with her so I took it. That afternoon I showed it to my friend Heather-- she started braying and then screeching with laughter.

Were I given the choice, I'd rather carry the thermos than wear a Barry Manilow t-shirt.