Mumzilla!

My mom is visiting me because I begged and pleaded for her to come to New York. She's been here for approximately 24 hours, and my stress levels are through the roof. The pressure is on to remain so incredibly even-keeled that I finished off the last third of my medium-sized bag of dark chocolate peanut M&Ms. Hosting a parent is never easy, and I think my caloric intake will increase by at least 20,000 calories during my mom's stay - not because she loves me and is cooking me every AWESOME dish under the sun; but because of loads and loads of stress.



Mistakes I have made while Mumzilla is here for her visit:


1. Leaving dishes in the sink. Mumzilla has an OCD that mandates she deep-clean every inch of my apartment while I'm asleep. Mumzilla also has a sleeping disorder. Said sleeping disorder only occurs when there is an absence of sound coming from a television. When there is an absence of sound, Mumzilla sleeps until 3:00 a.m. EST and is bored. When Mumzilla is bored, she cleans using old school cleaning products such as baking soda, vinegar, and lemons.

During my senior year of college, Mumzilla was so bored after she helped me move into my townhouse that she started scrubbing the kitchen grout with a lemon. My roommate's twin entered the TH to find Mumzilla fiercely attacking some stubborn grout that wouldn't move from the edge of the sink. My guess is that the grout lost the battle. R.I.P., townhouse grout. R.I.P.

When I awoke this morning, Mumzilla had lovingly scrubbed and placed all of my dirty dishes in the drying rack as well as wiped down my counters. I would have been pleased, but I told Mumzilla that she was by no means obligated to deep clean my apartment because she's on vacation, and vacation means that one isn't supposed to tackle household duties that aren't theirs.

Her response?

"I would have cleaned your cabinets, but I didn't have any vinegar."

I'm going to hide all of my cleaning supplies and sponges prior to going to bed tonight.

2. Showing Mumzilla the television in the living room. Mumzilla loves television. When I walked her to the living room, she took one look at the 32" inch flat screen and her eyes immediately glazed over. She was two seconds away from making out with the damn thing before I stopped her hard cold in her tracks.

"Oh yeah," she cooed. "I'll sleep in here."

Um, negative, Mumzilla.

"Mom, there's no A/C in here. The only A/C is in my room."

"That's okay! Just give me a blanket and the fan, and I'll be fine."

"No. It's hot. No way."

"But I can't fall asleep without noise!"

"I'm not budging on this one, Mom."

I literally had to pry Mumzilla's hands off of the television and shove her into my bedroom. Television is Mumzilla's crack. I was afraid that I was going to have to check her into Betty Ford, however, she's dealing nicely with the whole not being able to keep the television on for 12 hours at a time. I'm so glad that I convinced her that A/C is far superior to television.

3. Taking Mumzilla out for dinner with a friend. Mumzilla loves food, and I hate her because she's so fucking tiny that it hurts. IT HURTS. I'm shaped like a beast compared to my mother. Anyway, Mumzilla and I met up with a friend of mine from college at this really cute restaurant called Jane. Mumzilla ordered the burger and fries, because these are the main staples of her diet.

So we're all talking and eating, and like 30 minutes have passed, and Mumzilla hasn't made a dent in the monster pile of fries on her plate. I've already finished my yummy risotto; my friend is three-quarters of the way finished with his chicken and mashed potatoes, and Mumzilla is picking at her fries.

She hasn't even touched the burger.

Another 30 minutes have passed, and I'm totally on my second glass of wine. SECOND.GLASS.OF.WINE. Mumzilla has annihilated her fries; my friend has finished his chicken and mash; and Mumzilla? Hasn't even started eating the burger she ordered. It's now an hour later, and I've figured out Mumzilla's super-power: She has the ability to slow time.

I would have ordered a third glass of wine, but I'm all about not getting smashed in front of the parental unit.

After I guzzled the last drops of my second glass of wine like a thirsty wino, I asked Mumzilla if she was going to eat her burger.

"No. I'm full. I'll take the rest of it home."

OMFG.

3. Assuming that Mumzilla would actually forgo thinking about her job and just relaxing...like most people do when they're on a vacation.

"I need to check my work voicemail," Mumzilla sighed.

And this is where the needle totally scratched the record. I stepped in front of Mumzilla and furiously shook my head in front of her face.

"No. You're on vacation."

"I need to check my voicemail. I get 200-300 calls and messages a day, and I didn't even leave a voicemail that would tell callers that I'm away until Thursday. I need a piece of paper so I can write down my messages."

So what did I do? I handed Mumzilla a post-it, which was like giving a fat kid the smallest piece of birthday cake.

"THANKS!" Mumzilla screamed.

"I have more post-its if you want! I have a whole cube of them!" I shouted. I only want Mumzilla to enjoy her vacation.

"I NEED A PIECE OF PAAAAAAAAAPEEEEEERRRRRRR!" Mumzilla roared. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MANY PEOPLE CALL ME A DAY?!"

I didn't want to take the risk of being eaten alive, so I produced a pad of paper ASAP. Mumzilla? Satisfied.

4. Asking Mumzilla what she wanted to do while she is here (I've never done anything remotely touristy while living in NYC).

"Can we go to the Statue of Liberty?"

"Uh, like, do you want to go there? Like inside of it? Because there's a lot of tourists there."

"No. I just want to see it."

"So would you like to go there?" I reiterated. "Because we can go."

"No. If you just take me close enough to see it, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

Four hours later...

"So tomorrow we're going to Grimaldi's under the Brooklyn Bridge, okay Mom?"

"Yeah. You're going to show me the Statue of Liberty, right? You promised."

"Yes, Mom."

Stay tuned, because tomorrow? Tomorrow will give me more material so that you can hear all about my darling Mumzilla.

Fangs up; chocolate out. Eat said chocolate until your stress melts away...