So my mom, she calls, she says, “My cleaning lady says that my azalea bush is Alexander the Great.”
“Sounds legit.” I pause, because it’s not really where I thought this conversation was going to go. But to know my mother is to know that she believes this, as does the cleaning lady whose name is Gretchen. “Why is he occupying azaleas?”
“He’s here to protect me and everything’s going to be fine.”
I’m not a historian, so I don’t know a lot about Alexander the Great. But I’m pretty sure what I do remember didn’t have much to do with putting down roots. “Are you sure he wasn’t that invasive bamboo or mint in the back yard? An invasive species of plant sounds more like something a conqueror would go for.” I leave out that it’s hard to imagine Alexander the Great in a Houston suburb. Flowering.
“He says he wants a crown.”
Well, that settles it.
Also, I have two new books coming out from Loose Id. Tentatively, You’re Welcome. Love, Your Cat, written with Thursday Euclid will be out August 6, 2013. It has references to Alexander the Great, but no azaleas.
Tentatively, No Tea, No Shade should be out September 24, 2013. Also no azaleas but no Alexander the Great references either. I try to make up for the lack with drag queens.
ETA: I feel like I should clarify, re: Gretchen the cleaning lady, that my mom would refer to Gretchen as her friend. Whom she pays. To clean her house. Who doesn’t come over at any other time than those in which she is paid to clean the house. My mom and I share a difference in how we categorize that relationship. Blame it on the unreliable narrator if you had any other impression than that Gretchen was a friend. Who is paid. To clean the house.
Your mom is a very special individual. Sometimes I’m amazed you’re from her genetic material, but then I think about all the imaginary friends living in your head and go, “Nah, that’s legit.”
Imaginary, huh?
Reblogged this on mikenewman23 and commented:
I wish I was that fish