Mom’s Inability to Send Text Messages
Ever since I got the Korean food hook up from CJ, I’ve occasionally used their spicy Korean BBQ sauce to make chicken wings. Jas, like most red-blooded American men, loves chicken wings, and he’s a huge fan of using the Bibigo sauce on them despite the fact that anything remotely spicy makes him sweat buckets. Recently he had a hankering for wings so we whipped some up. Since my mom is now capable of receiving picture mail, I sent her a photo of our dinner in an effort to convince her I don’t mess up everything I try to cook:
She left a voicemail shortly after that, which I’ve transcribed verbatim:
Mom: “Rebeccaaaaa. We have big storm. I’m sitting here, dark. A little while ago, I see your, um, chicken. Gochujang chicken? That chicken. That’s a gochujang sauce. Chicken legs. Look good. So I re-ply, but I say ‘Justin’ ‘stead of ‘Jason.’ Oh my gahhh! I guess I’m getting old. So don’t tell him that, okay? Just say ‘Jason.’ I say ‘Justin,’ you know? So don’t tell him that!”
- Yes my mom said “re-ply” as if it were two words (“re” and “ply”).
- Jason and I have been dating for nearly eight years. Before that I dated a guy named Justin. I can understand initial confusion considering the two names are similar, but really, after eight years she’s still getting them confused?
- Speaking of “re-ply,” what’s this response she was talking about? I never got any sort of text message reply from her. I thought she didn’t even know how to send one.
I returned her call to get the story straight.
Mom: “You get my message?”
Mom: “Oh my gahhhh, I say ‘Justin,’ not ‘Jason’! Don’t tell him I say that!”
Me, laughing: “I can see how you’d get confused. We’ve only been dating for eight short years.”
Mom: “…I say ‘Justin.’”
Me: “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that. What’s this reply you were talking about? I never got a reply.”
Mom, angry: “Mia say she don’t get my re-plies either! I don’t know what the deal is! Phone or something!”
Me: “I’m not so sure it’s the phone that’s the problem here…”
Mom: I send re-plies to you and I send re-ply to something Mia sent too. She never get it and you don’t get it. What the heck.”
Me: “You sure you sent a response to the picture mail I sent?”
Mom, indignant: “Yes, I’m sure! I write, ‘Mmmm mmmm, that looks good.’”
At this point I lost it, laughing my ass off over the contents of my mother’s super important text message.
Mom: “…then I write, ‘Jason is a good cook.’ But instead of JASON I write JUSTIN.”
Me: “Yes, you’ve made that quite clear.”
Mom: “My gah. Don’t tell him!”
I like her repeated pleas not to tell my boyfriend she got his name wrong, as if he’ll be highly offended by the actions of a woman who kept bringing up how big he used to be when she saw a slimmed-down version of him last October.
Me: “I won’t.” (I already did. He laughed.)
Mom: “This phone piece of junk. This fall I get eye…eye one.”
Me: “An iPhone?”
Mom: “Yeah, I get eye-phone in fall. Then I send re-plies.”