It’s all about the numbers and the inner bitch

About a year and half ago, a family friend gave my mother an Angel Numbers book. Our friend, bless her soul, had been to Las Vegas to hear the authors of the book give a talk and she was one hundred percent sold on the notion that there is magic in numbers. She once showed me her copy of the book and nearly every page had a sticky note attached describing just exactly when and where she was when she saw that particular sequence of numbers. So when she gave my mom a copy my mother became quite sold on the idea as well. Since the arrival of the book at The Manor, my mother has recorded the numbers in her Day Timer so that she can flip back and see if there is a pattern to it all. My father and I used to have a fabulous time poking fun at her when she would dramtically exclaim, “Wait! Don’t move! The stove clock says__________! I have to look up the meaning.” The meaning usually went something like this, “The Ascended Masters look upon you with great faith, a new path awaits, blah, blah, blah.” My father and I used to have the best time wondering just how much the authors had been drinking when they came up with the meaning to 634 or 541. Were they sitting on the beach in Maui smoking a big doobie joint and knocking back a margarita as they made up their hooey? We would often ask my mother if the digital stove clock had revealed an inner truth to her that day or if the Ascended Masters had beamed their All Knowing Love to her through the numbers. She took the ribbing with a wonderful sense of humor, and while I dearly miss my partner in mocking, she still takes my mockery just as well.
Yesterday she and I were sitting around the kitchen floor and talking after a particularly exhausting day. Loren had argued with me about doing homework, he and Cass had squabbled away most of the afternoon, Devon had somehow gone from perfectly healthy to losing his voice and uncontrollable coughing on the way home from the ski mountain. Needless to say, I felt as though I wanted to cry or curl up with a bad romance novel and a glass of wine rather than face the rest of the evening. But suddenly I looked at the stove clock and the numbers spoke, well sort of they spoke, really I was just looking to push somebody else’s buttons since mine had been so mercilessly clobbered all afternoon. So I said, “Dear lord, don’t move! It’s the numbers! This is magical. Quick, look up that number, what does it mean?”
My mother consulted the book and replied, “723: You’re walking in faith, based upon the guidance given to you by the Ascended Masters. You’re on the right course; and you’re protected, loved and watched over. Unfotunately, you are also an outrageous bitch.”
I said, “Are you sure it says that?”
“Yep. Right there in black and white. You can’t argue with the Ascended Masters.”