Parental Distancing

Keep your parental distance. 

Week whatever of this rollercoaster ride from Hell, and the delightful millennials I birthed a while back continue to put me in my place. They scold me in the most parental way, attaching various nicknames to soften the blow.

Youngest: "Sweet Ma! What am I going to do with you? I told you, in no uncertain terms, not to go out. How many times must I repeat myself?"
Me: "Oh, for @#$%'s sake, honey, all I did was walk the dog."
Youngest: "Don't lie to me. You went to Gelson's, didn't you?"
Me: "I refuse to answer on the grounds it may contaminate me."

Eldest: "Mama Bear! I thought we said no more CVS outings."
Me: "It was fine. I kept my social distance. I wore gloves. I didn't yell at anyone."
Eldest: "Did you throw out the gloves like a good girl?"
Me: "Yes. I'm not an idiot."
Eldest: "No one said you were."

Youngest: "I'll only come over on Sunday if you stay six feet away at all times."
Me: "I'll have my measuring tape ready."
Youngest: "No hugs, Sweet Ma."
Me: "What about air hugs? Are air hugs okay? "
Youngest: "I'll consult the CDC and get back to you."

Eldest: "You can't come over till after the baby's born."
Me: "What did I do to deserve such banishment?"
Eldest: "It's not you, it's the pandemic."
Me: "What if I stand on the driveway and wave?"
Eldest: "We'll consult the Ob-Gyn and get back to you."

Yesterday, the mother-son texting kicked up a notch.
Youngest: "Ma! You just butt dialed me!"
Me: "What?! My phone wasn't even in my back pocket."
Youngest: "Three times."
Me: "I didn't butt dial you, honey, I fanny pack dialed you. That's different."
Youngest: "Still."
Me: "Can you ever forgive me?"
Youngest: "It's okay, Ma. You didn't mean to interrupt my work call. Three times. "