Today my siblings and I took my mother to the Longhorn Steakhouse for dinner. Somehow, nonsense seems to be stalking me.
At the table behind us, I hear what sounds like a possible argument. A young man tells a woman that it’s not his decision and she has to make up her own mind. As they continue talking I realize it’s not a married couple but a mother and son. In less than an hour I know their whole family history.
It seems that the mother wasn’t around much or may have had issues making decisions. Her son drops big words on her psychoanalyzing the situation. He’s not quite to the point of berating her for what she’s done in the past, but he’s close. There’s also a brother somewhere who by the sound of it may have an addiction issue and really doesn’t want to be bothered with her.
The son goes on and on throughout the entire meal, bringing up ancient family history. Over and over he’s lecturing her like he’s enjoying dishing out this punishment. I get to the point where I’m ready to turn around and tell him to leave the drama for Monday. Today is Mother’s Day after all.
After awhile, they leave and I’m left to wonder if the drama will continue on the ride home. The entire situation just makes me grateful for my own mother. My siblings, my little cousin and I are very blessed to have her in our corner.