Getting Skinned at Lunch with Mother

Lunch out with Mother always starts with an understanding.  I understand I will be paying unless she tells me otherwise.  Let me give you a little background.  She is a tightwad.  If we stop at McDonald’s for a cup of coffee, she always holds her little yellow change purse where I can’t see it, pretends she has no change, even though it’s bulging, and asks, “Can you pay for my coffee?  I hate to break a dollar for coffee.”  Technically, this is true.  She never said she didn’t have change.  She just hates to break a dollar for coffee.  If we went to a car dealership, she’d say, “Can you get this.? I hate to write a check for a car.”

Today was no different.  We ordered our lunch, had a nice visit, and Mother disappeared to the bathroom.  The check came while she was gone.  She came back, totally surprised to find me paying check.  “I didn’t know the check would come so soon.  I’ll pay you back later……..if you’re not going to eat that chicken, I’ll put in my takeout box…..and if you don’t want the rest of your salad, and that roll……..”

Today was no different.  We ordered our lunch, had a nice visit, and Mother disappeared to the bathroom.  The check came while she was gone.  She came back, totally surprised to find me paying check.  “I didn’t know the check would come so soon.  I’ll pay you back later……..if you’re not going to eat that chicken, I’ll put in my takeout box…..and if you don’t want the rest of your salad, and that roll……..and pass me four of those Splenda packets.”