House Guests

I really cannot understand why my mother insisted on telling me all about how large-breasted women suffer from back ache. She told me this as if it was a fact I didn’t know, and that I should feel sorry for all those poor women. She kept repeating it, just to be sure that I understood. She used anecdotes of distant relatives who had problems, so that I could better comprehend that women I’d met had suffered terribly.

My mother has a AA bust. It fits her well, and she seems happy with it. I have a GG bust. I know all about back ache. I’m lying here now with my upper back spasming, because released the weight off my bra and the muscles are all struggling to stretch back out and relax. It’s the same every time I lie down.

And it made me wonder if we ever reach a time when parents start to grasp the fact that you have life experiences beyond what they have taught you. I am 38 years old.

My mother has been staying with us on and off over the past week, bringing trailers of dirt up to the new section and helping me with the planting (bless her). It is assistance gratefully received, but it sure is odd living with my mother again.

I won’t go into more detail. It’s just that nervous combination of guilt-trips, shame, and near-arguments that add a frisson to life. A frisson of “I love you but I’m glad you’re going home tomorrow”.

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