Monday, July 14, 2008

Wingmom


Your boys may be good, but I'd bet Mom's better.

My mom and I rented a table at my local yard sale a couple months ago. Always looking for an opportunity, I put on a skirt and some makeup. We set up about 7am and began selling our crap.

Moms, always in tune with the manhunt herself, kept an eye out for me, "How about that one?" She nodded her head in the direction of a young man.

"Hmmph." I shrugged, nonverbally dismissing him.

"{Dauntless}, what's wrong with him?"

"I dunno."

"Ok, how about him?" she asked again. She got the same reply.

Just at that moment, a truck full of firefighters pulled into a nearby cul-de-sac to 'show the kids around the fire truck' (otherwise known as turn on all women within 200 feet).

"Here we go." says Mom. "Go over there and talk to them."

"What? No way!" I replied, as if I don't have any experience at all in this dating world.

"Yes. They're right next to the food. Go over there, get yourself a hotdog and talk to them!"

"Ok," I grudgingly agreed, though I knew full well I would not be striking up any conversations.

When I returned with a hotdog and no firefighter, Mom was not pleased.

"You wimp."

When the firefighters decided to saunter past our table, I took the opportunity to drool while Mom took the opportunity to elbow me.

As they passed a second time, she tried humiliation, {Dauntless}, you're 30. You shouldn't be scared of boys. Go!"

Determined to make Mom proud, I stood up, chased them down (yes, there was some running involved), and invited them to our community happy hour. They accepted.

You can't beat a wingmom with a stick. Try her out guys.


1 comment:

AnotherSocialScientist said...

Go mom! Sadly my mother has absolutely no sense of the kind of man I date despite a front row seat in the procession of bf's. Any 'nice' ageing, overweight, balding man will do just fine for me, apparently.