My Mother, That Horrible Woman

It's been a while since Granny Oakley, AKA my mother, has been mentioned here at Home Fires. I'd like to give you a warm heartfelt story about her and our very special Christmas together, but it just wasn't meant to be.

This is the year she introduced her grandchildren to the infamous gift card. I can't prove it, but I am pretty sure she was fully aware of what her children would endure while shopping with their children. It's another one of those "paybacks are a bitch" deals.

She couldn't just give them a $20 card either. She gave each $100. Do you have any idea how much money that is, especially to a child?

Have you ever gone to Chucky Cheese? They have all these games the kids can play. If they play well, they are awarded tickets. At the counter, children can cash their tickets in for one of the prizes on the shelves. The prizes require a ridiculous amount of tickets, which means parents are stuck at the prize counter for hours on end with their child who is trying to "spend" their tickets.

Five tickets will get you a lovely green plastic spider ring or a temporary tattoo of a honeybee. Ten tickets will get you a tiny bouncy ball that's all glittery, that you, as a parent, will want to lodge into your own throat by the time you leave the fucking place.

Now, imagine if you will, 100 dollars. I can almost hear the collective sigh of compassion from you parents reading. Yes, I am thankful to have a mother who spoils my children rotten. But, you have to admit she pulled a fast one on all of us.

Standing in the select store with Lane 1 and Lane 2, here are some of the things I had to endure:

"Mom, would you cover tax if I get something slightly over $100?"

"If I just get a candy bar, won't they have to give me my change back in cash?"

"Ma, how much would this, this, this, this and this cost together?"

"If I get these two, will there be enough left over to get this?"

"Is it legal for them to charge minors tax? Seven and a half percent? Really Mom? What a rip off!"

Sure, it was a swell math lesson for all of us, however, like the Chucky Cheese counter, I found myself trying to lodge items into my airway. I mentally cursed my mother.

After days of this back and forth to the store stuff, Lane 2 spent a whopping 15 bucks. Do the math folks. Do you realize how much time was spent "shopping" with these cards? I'd like to take the gift cards and swipe them down Mom's ass crack and see her spit out some cash. What the fuck was she thinking?

Tune in tomorrow to learn that the Lane cousins also drove their parents crazy with gift card purchases, thanks to Granny Oakley.