Mom (who is at home, sick):
I wasn't home when you called earlier. I had to go to the market to get the drinks for the Lenten supper and take them over to the church. I'm not going to be able to go. I'm too sick. It nearly killed me, wrestling with all the plastic bags and six bottles of soda. And then I locked my purse in the trunk of the car.
Me:
Mom, why didn't you tell someone you were too sick to do that?
Mom:
Oh, no! I signed up to bring the drinks! It was my job.
Me:
Yes, but if you're SICK.... You're allowed to be sick, you know. It happens. You didn't do it on purpose.
Mom:
Yes, but I already talked to two other people, and one of them is sick with a cold and SHE had already taken the plates over even though SHE said SHE's not going to be able to go.
Me:
Yes, but Mom ... people DO get sick, and if you are SICK, even if you've said you'll do something you need to tell someone you simply CAN'T.
Mom:
Oh, I couldn't do that.
Me:
Good lord. The day you die, you are going to climb out of your frickin' casket and go to the market.
Mom (laughing):
You're probably right.
Me:
I KNOW I'm right. You'll rise up, all zombified, and say you have to run get a gallon of milk or return some library books. It never occured to me before, but that IS what's going to happen. No doubt in my mind.
