After 37 years it just might be bonding

Although my mother and I have been living together for the last 16 months we rarely do anything together. I spend a majority of my energies on the children, and what bits they don’t suck from my marrow get used on me just trying to be me. My mother spends most of her time getting back on her feet and trying to find a her that is no longer entwined with my father. So what we have left for each other generally ends up going something like this:
“Oh, is there any more milk?’
“Um, no. Don’t think so.”
“Right. I’ll use creamer instead.”
But today my mom mentioned she had to make a Costco run, she sort of looked out of the corner of her eyes as she said this. This was my cue to offer my company, which I did because let’s face it, I haven’t been further than 16 miles from the Manor in the last eight months. Plus, I absolutely love Costco. The hunting and gathering possibilities there are amazing. Not only can you buy a pack of 89 AA batteries for $10, but you can get goat cheese rolled in cranberries and you can eat your way through the gigantic store while you look at the many wonders of consumerism America. Why would I want to stay home and work when I could sample chili cheese mashed potatoes and fill the cart with immense boxes of trail mix? Usually we split up when we hit Costco, each of us with a list so that we can economize on our time. But today we meandered up and down the aisles, cart by cart and looking at this and that. We ate, chatted about things other than the kids or my brother’s addictions. We hunted and gathered to the tune of an absurdly high bill. Then we went next door to the Costco whiskey store and did it some more. On the way home we stopped at a Starbuck’s and got sugary caffeine drinks in order to have some stamina to unload the car of the zillions of packages and boxes.
The whole excursion took about six hours. I missed yoga and ended up pretty beat. After feeding the kids, monitoring Loren’s homework and getting Devon to bed I wandered into the kitchen looking for a glass of wine. I told my mom that maybe my new herbs weren’t working because I was absolutely beat from a little trip of hunting and gathering. She paused a moment, shook her head and replied, “Um, no. There you are wrong. One, you cooked dinner, sat with the kids and then cleaned up the kitchen. Two, you’re not at all the raging bitch you’ve been for the past few months. You might be tired but at least you’re decent company again.”
With that I opened a bottle of wine and decided it had been a good day. We are sort of like a pair of emotionally stunted porcupines trying to hug each other. It will never be smoothe but from time to time we keep trying.