One year my husband and I decided to visit California. Charles had never been to Disneyland and I knew he would fall in love with the Magic Kingdom. To be honest, I did use the lure of a trip to Disneyland as the carrot to the stick that was a visit to Mother Drunkest’s.
I let Mother know that we would be at Disneyland for several days and would stop by after we were done with the pleasure part of our trip.
Upon our arrival to her humble abode, we decided it would be best to do our visiting with her elsewhere. No need to explain except to say we did not wish to be there when the sanitation department arrived. Or the haz-mat team we suspected might have to be called in.
Charles and I loaded Mother up and went out for lunch at a nearby café. We agreed to spend some time with her the next day and she said she would drive to our hotel.
The next morning, Mother arrived with her usual flair. Her car had overheated and she needed several buckets of water to get it to quit smoking. Luckily, and inexplicably, she had a bucket with her so Charles and I made several trips though the hotel lobby with the bucket.
If that wasn’t enough of a sight, a gust of wind blew Mother’s dress over her head while we were standing on the roadside. The kicker to this was her total lack of underwear! Well before the days of Lindsay Lohan “accidentally” flashing the paparazzi, Mother was ahead of her time in Southern California in the weirdest of possible ways.
Charles was, of course, psychologically scarred by the site and the very public nature of the horror. It suffices to say it was another day in Mary paradise, with or without underwear.