December Mom Madness

We're making dinner. I turn on the radio.

Mom: Use the TV-- we have a bunch of music channels.

I turn on the tv, flip around between Classic Rock and the 80s.

Mom: I don't like this song.

minutes later

Mom: I don't like this song.

minutes later

Mom: I don't like this song. Only for you I tolerate this music.
A.: I'm just going to turn it off.
Mom: No, no listen to whatever you want.
A.: I'd rather not. It's really not worth it if you're going to complain the whole time.
Mom: I am not complaining the whole time! You're too sensitive! Whatever!

***
We've hit my hair, my weight, amebas, and now my being overly sensitive. I wonder if it's time to set up a holiday edition of Mom Madness.

Actually, she missed an opportunity this morning. I asked about a family friend.

Mom: She's fine. She has a nanny now for her son.
A.: She has a son??
Mom: You didn't know?
A.: How am I supposed to know if you don't tell me?
Mom: Anyway, she's doing well.

We got to talking about her. Mom said that her mom exposed her to a lot of activities as a child, including ice skating. I braced myself for the usual "and we, too, tried to teach you just about everything and you sucked at all of it," but it didn't come.

So I don't have any predictions for what's next. We'll see.

***
During dinner

Mom: I thought you'd have moved on to classical by now.

For mom, taste is a linear thing-- there's good taste, and bad taste. And if I don't like what she likes, it's a matter of bad taste. It would be a stretch to figure that I like both classic rock and classical music; one represents bad taste, the other good. And good taste is something that will come, will evolve. If I don't like a painting that she does like, it's because I haven't gotten there yet. It'll come. That's the kind of evolution she does believe in.