You know that conversation that you MUST have with your mother on a monthly basis? I try my best to avoid this conversation because it will generally end with enormous feelings of shame, guilt, and depression about everything I am doing wrong with my life. It's kinda like going to church. I had that conversation with my mom last night.

She called later than usual and began with the standard mother introduction: "David. Why haven't you called your mother?"
This led to the obligatory reverse-psychology guilt-trip. This time I was prepared for it.

"David. What is wrong....."

"Nothing mom," I interrupted "Nothing is wrong with anything. I'll be just fine. I found Jesus. Love you."

"Haha. Yeah right Mike.....Tyl....Pe....Man....David. You'd probably be much better off if you DID find Jesus."

My mom was quick. She was REAL good. It's times like this, when I realize where I get my sharpness from. You can't slip ANYTHING by this woman. She's more astute than Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman. She can barely remember my name but she'll be damned if she forgets about the time that I called that girl "pudgy" in 3rd grade.

We trudged on, sharing stories about my girl problems and my health problems and my work problems and my existential problems. When we talk, it's like she knows what I'm going to say before I say it. So I try to throw her off with the occasional BS story and she calls me on it everytime. It's a game of cat and mouse. Mother and son.

I pretend to hate this conversation but in reality, she's the only woman on this planet who actually gets me. She's the only one who calms me and makes me feel like everything is alright. As I grow older, it gets easier and easier to have this conversation. It gets easier to accept that I love my mother for exactly what she is: comfort.

The conversation ended in usual fashion. Me trying to get off the phone and her begging to stay on. I feel like I'm in that cats and the cradle song by Harry Chapin (redone terribly by Ugly Kid Joe). And so I hung up the phone, realizing that I AM just like my mother in so many ways.

Forgetful but sharp. Neurotic but careless. Depressed but happy. Offensive but caring.

Son and mother.