Holy Mother Of...

Nugs: My birthday is fast approaching, and as the oldest first-born member of Snark & Sex, I'm the first one to leave behind her twenties. I'm also the only one of us that's still so fucking single that the most excitement I just had was mass-texting like 18 people about how I went to opening night of The Hobbit. With my brother. Also my iPhone kept auto-correcting the word "Bilbo."

Ginny: The Shire is back bitches!!

This, of course, does not sit well with my Jewish Mother, who is constantly trying to think of new and interesting ways to lasso me a Baby Daddy. These include:

• online dating
• going to places alone like a creepy stalker
• her friends' sons who happen to live thousands of miles away
• the personals Ginny: Don't do this because I'm afraid you'll be murdered. Nugs: Right there with ya, Gin.
• Star Trek conventions
• trips to the zoo (don't even ask)

What in the... just no.

For those of you of the Jewish persuasion, you know exactly what I'm referring to when I capitalize the terms "Jewish" and "Mother." For those of you who haven't been personally familiarized with this phenomenon, I'm indescribably jealous.

Tits: I'm pretty sure everyone in the world knows what you mean by the term "Jewish Mother." Unless they have been living under a rock and have never caught an episode of the Nanny. I'm pretty sure Nug's could make her own Shit Jewish Mothers Say video.

Nugs: I totally missed the boat on that meme. Much like when you wondered why I didn't get that waiter's phone number instead, I question why I don't yet run all my life decisions through you.

I do, of course, adore my mom- as far as parents go, I definitely hit the jackpot with both of them. However, my Jewish Mother does have the tendency to- should we say- overstep. It's a running joke in my family- if we want the world to know what's going on in our lives, tell Mom not to say anything, and within an hour it will be on the news in at least four continents. I remember one Facebook conversation in particular I had with my brother when he had just started dating his most recent girlfriend and we were debating just how much our Jewish Mother needed to know about the relationship. We finally agreed on "as little as possible" in case Mom decided to buy them matching burial plots.

Tits: This is a totally respectable thing to do. I told my parents about Imac too early and they begged me to bing him to every family function even though we hadn't been dating 3 months. I've managed to hold off all the way till christmas. WINNING. 

Nugs: I love you.

Ginny: My mother offered me a burial plot in Michigan. Why would I want to be buried in Michigan? Sorry, I just had to share that.

Nugs: Our family's is in New Jersey. Again, I state- NEW JERSEY. NOT WINNING.

Anyway, we digress. The following conversation with my brother took place on a Monday between 8pm and 10pm, PST:




Nugs: So what did you lead with? "I'm dating someone" or "she's a lawyer?"
Brother Nugs: Does it matter?
Nugs: Not really. Either way Mom is already blueprinting the sonogram.
Brother Nugs: Also I told Mom she doesn't have Facebook.
Nugs: Does she?
Brother Nugs: Of course she does. Everyone is on Facebook.
Nugs: Ahahaha. Well played.

Nugs: Remember when I dated a Jewish lawyer? After a month she was already drafting wedding invites.
Brother Nugs: Yeah. I remember him. That guy was a douchebag. For some reason Mom really liked him though.
Nugs: Jewish. And lawyer. Although Mom likes anyone who she thinks is going to implant me with their seed.
Brother Nugs: You're definitely next.
Nugs: She's like, "How about that nice kid in the next apartment?" And I'm like, "No Mom. He's 16, and a Klansman."
Brother Nugs: She probably likes that at least he has high-thread count sheets that get frequently washed. You need better excuses.

As with 95% of Jewish Mothers (there was a poll) (Tits: I don't think this needs a poll), my mom gets super excited at the mere mention of a boy even glancing in my general direction because clearly, this means that I'll be married within six months. Unfortunately for her (and me), she often wanders too far into the deep end and leaves me without a pair of floaties. Observe, the Tale of the Attack of the Family Circus, submitted for your approval (or not):



I had just started dating The Subscription (for more on that trainwreck, click this link), and we were supposed to hit up a Halloween party at a local bar. Since we all know how Jazz Hands! I go for Halloween, I had offered to help him pick out his costume; then he would come back later and we would go to the party. That also, coincidentally, happened to be the weekend that my mom was staying with me, so the chances that he and I would finally be getting down were probably pretty marginal. Such is my life. Anyway:

I had briefed my Jewish Mother on the situation and had let her know that while Friday night was Girls' Night, Saturday belonged to my new guy. Apparently my scheduling capabilities weren't enough for her, as this then led to the following exchange:

Jewish Mother: Is he going to come in before you leave so I can meet him?
Nugs: Unquestionably 100 percent no.
JM: Why not?
Nugs: Because I want him to keep liking me.
JM: What is that supposed to mean?
Nugs: Nothing, Mom. I love you. Eat your kugel.

Tits' Sidenote: While I am not Jewish I love me some kugel (even though I always want to pronounce it "quigel") and the only time I ever had it was when my Jewish Freshman roommate's mother sent her back with some from over Thanksgiving. It had pineapples and cheese and was amazing. Anyways this is totally off topic.

Nugs' Sidenote: Kugel is actually one of the only Jewish foods that is not totally disgusting. There's a reason all our edibles have the syllable "ugh" in it. Anyway...

 I met The Subscription at the store, where we debated on what to wear that night. I practically pleaded with him to get the Superman costume, to which he responded that he wasn't wearing "no fucking tights." In retrospect, it's probably better off that my future offspring aren't going to share 50% of his genetics.

Tits: I actually respect him for being "No fucking tights;" those things ride up your ass like a motherfucker.

I'll take "All my hopes and dreams" for $100, Alex.

Nugs: We explored the aisles until we settled on suitable outfits for both of us and made our way towards the register. I was almost home free until I turned towards the checkout area- and came face-to-face with the Jewish Mother.

Nugs: MOM?!?!
JM: You must be [The Subscription]! I've heard a lot about you.
The Subscription: Um...
Nugs: *dies*
JM: You're right, he's cute. Well, see you at home!
Nugs: *and...puddle on the floor* Oh. God.
TS: It's cool. My mother's Italian, I get it.

Ginny: Your mom needs to have her own tv show.

Tits: Catholic Mothers are the second worst next to Jewish ones. That's what the poll said anyways. While I wasn't raised Catholic, my mother and grandmother were and they know how to make you feel guilty over everything. It's like an art form.

Ginny: Only my grandmother can guilt trip me into going to church. She's really good at it!

Nugs: Totally. My mother is such an expert at the Guilt Trip that I swear she taught the class. Actually, she was probably Dean of the entire school. As for our respective celebrations, the most important of the Jewish holidays is Yom Kippur, where we basically sit around all day and think about what an asshole we are. Also, while all of you guys get happy, fun movies like Miracle on 34th Street, A Christmas Carol and Home Alone, the closest thing Jews get to a holiday classic is Schindler's List. So make of this what you will.

Ginny: What about 8 Crazy Nights? Is that a Jewish classic?

Nugs: That is a Jewish abortion. But thanks for checking. <3

Perhaps the best (or worst) part of this whole calamity is that my mom sees absolutely nothing wrong with anything she ever says or does. She never thinks any of her children should be humiliated by any of the ways she chooses to express her love, no matter how cracked or unhinged they may make her appear. Whenever I question why I'm still without an appropriate lifemate, as if on cue, my mother's number comes up on the Caller ID and I think, "oh...right."

BRB, dying alone forever.

Ginny: Not true. Your mom will always be there ;)

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