There are times when I swear my mother is dropping acid or shooting heroin or something.

Case in point, I called her yesterday to see how she was doing, catch up, all that fun stuff, and she comes back with, "By any chance have you seen my cell phone charger?" Now mind you, I haven't been in Florida for a month. This means one of several things -- either I accidentally packed my mother's telephone charger (which I know I hadn't done since I have already unpacked since I returned), my mother has lost the charger and thinks I either took it or lost it, I really did take her charger and have yet to discover the second charger, I lost the charger somewhere in South Carolina when we were there for my great-uncle's funeral, or my mother has completely lost it. (Most likley answer is that she has lost it.) Of course this also means that my mother has not charged her cell phone in a month. I have to do it every day.

So we made a deal...I would go home and ransack my apartment looking for her charger. She would grab the suitcase I used for the trip to the funeral and check there. Apartment did not have her charger and suitcase did not have it either. I even pull out my charger and read off the back exactly what it says which proved it was my charger. I get a phone call from her about an hour later.

"I called to apologize," she said. "It was on the dining room table."

"Okay, so let's hear it," I said.

"Hear what?"

"The apology."

"I just did it."

"No, Momma (that's how Southern I am), you called to say you were apologizing, I haven't heard it yet."

Of course we were laughing hysterically by this point..."No, you have mine. You lost mine. I didn't do it. It's all you. You have my charger and your charger. You lost it in South Carolina. Mine, mine, mine, mine. Stomps foot. Pouts. Holds breath until her face turns blue."

Ah parents....