Mixed messages from my mother

Last night, my mother called to wish me a happy birthday. At the end of the conversation, she accused me of being anti-American. Then she wished me a happy birthday again.

Thanks, Mom!

Actually I'm not angry that she said I was anti-American. For her to use the hot-button phrases of Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, et al is a lot like me quoting Monty Python. I do quote Monty Python sometimes. But I've watched very little of it and have only the sketchiest idea what it's about. I get my quotes from the company I keep.

And I guess I can't blame my mother for trying. I overwhelm her in almost every conversation we have. She has to respond somehow, I suppose.

I'm just annoyed because, even if she doesn't understand the current political context of her accusation, the very term "anti-American" sounds undeniably negative. One American calling another American "anti-American" can only mean trouble, in any context, regardless of whether they are strangers or mother and daughter.

Next time I lose you, Mom, try something a little nicer. Remember, I'm a blogger. Don't mess with the blogger, or you might get blogged about.

(At least the term has six syllables. She could have called me something monosyllabic, like "jerk," which might have made me cry in frustration.)

By the way, I had a lovely birthday. The best birthday I've had in years.