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Do yo’ love yo’ momma? I know I loves my momma. Don’t yo’ go tellin’ me I don’t love my momma. I knows what I knows. Yeeayah. End racial insensitivity toward homeboy wannabes, like Eminem. If someone asked you if …...

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Filed Under on April 7th, 2012

Invalid Mom vs Kamikaze Grandma

By Seth Kabala

Do yo’ love yo’ momma? I know I loves my momma. Don’t yo’ go tellin’ me I don’t love my momma. I knows what I knows. Yeeayah.

End racial insensitivity toward homeboy wannabes, like Eminem.

If someone asked you if you could prove you love your mother, and you actually do love her, doubtless you could cite examples of homemade cards, breakfast-in-bed (50% edible), and coming home only slightly drunk while celebrating a high-school sports team’s triumph, reducing home-vomiting to outside on the lawn.

But what if your writings, not your actions, betray you? What then?

I’m dealing with the uncertainty of this right now, as my mom, playing the happy parent, glad to get rid of my old crap, gave me an old notebook of mine.

And inside, dated September 21, 1993 (I was 12), this gem:

During the past few weeks, it’s been great around here. People have been bringing over food, and [sic] and all kinds of stuff. But the best part is I don’t have to do any dishes, because Grandma was here. All this happened because last Saturday mom was hit by a car.

We all thank God for her not being killed.

While Grandma was here we went to the park. I got new Levis, at the Mall, and Grandma drove us around to [sic] trak.

This all may sound good but Grandma is not a very good driver. When we were going to church last [sic] sunday, Grandma never took her foot off the gas going down Kimberly Road. She was going about 75mph in a 45mph zone. Then she drove over the white lines trying to get to the turn lane. The[n] decided she didn’t want to turn, and got back on the [sic] mane road. Then she ran a red light because she thought she could go because it was on an arrow, a red arrow.

But we all had fun laughing.

As I said, my mom looked happy when she gave me the notebook, but I have a feeling I should go bauble shopping, before I am thus beaned.

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Seth Kabala

About: Seth Kabala
Seth is an entrepreneur, writer, musician, family man, and juggler of balls--big ones. He lives with his wife and three children in Portland, OR.

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