default avatar
Welcome to the site! Login or Signup below.
Logout|My Dashboard

Ish Ka who?

Font Size:
Default font size
Larger font size

Posted: Tuesday, February 8, 2011 11:33 am

My mom was from Denton, Texas.  She came to California in 1938 when she was 4 years old.  Other than herself in that old car, were her folks and 5 or 6 older brothers and sisters.  They left Texas, as many did, searching for a better life in the Golden State.  I'm thinking its my mother's roots that lent a colorful element to her language.

Borrowing from the TV series "%*&^#$ My Father Says", whose origins are from a Twitter account of the same name, here is:

#@$*&% My Mother Has Said

On education:  "Send you kids to school and you eat the covers off the books".  This was usually the response when reviewing my report card.

On fashion:  "Her skirt is so short she needs a hair net".  Obviously, I didn't get this until I reached puberty.  It came to me one day sitting in history.  Oh....that's what she meant. (and it might explain my report card)

On discipline:  "I'll beat you right here in front of God and everybody" and "I'll rip your arm off and beat you with the bloody end".  This was 1962 and the CPS rarely stormed the shopping center in search of mean moms.  A little kid gets spanked in JC Pennys and a crowd would usually form to cheer her on.

On religion:  "God didn't put you here to be happy".  No God is waiting for the arm-ripping show.

On desire:  "Want in one hand and spit in the other...see which one gets full the fastest" and "People in Hell want ice water".  I quickly learned to rephrase my requests.

On the economy:  "We're living on a shoestring here and its broke and tied in the middle".

On culinary matters:  "Eat it or wear it" was a favorite and "You eat that hot stuff and you'll be yelling "come on ice cream" in the morning.  And after I got old enough to help, "Just make a Honeymoon Salad; that's lettuce-alone". Yea, she was the Shecky Greene of the kitchen.

On health:  "Your dad likes a fat girl.  She's warmth in the winter and shade in the summer". 

On travel:  We NEVER left the house on vacation that my mother did not exclaim, "We're off in a gale of hen s**t".  Think about that next time you're leaving the house...might want to grab an umbrella.

On children's fashion:  Speaking to my little brother who routinely had his belly sticking out, "Chuck, why don't you have a party and have your pants meet your shirt".  (See the ecomony. Maybe the shoestring could be used to hold up my brother's pants...just trying to help)

On entertaining: "Get off the table, Mabel, the money's for the beer".  We weren't allowed to sit on the table, and apparently, the money really was for the beer.

I spent a lot of my childhood walking away and scratching my head.  My hair color was either turd-mucklety-dunn or s**t-brindle-brown, depending on the light and with it parted right down the middle, she said I looked like Ish Kabibble.  Look it up.  Its a guy...she was using it all wrong.  Lastly, I aways "made her a** wanna dip a snuff".  Now, I knew the size of her rear-end and a couple of my uncles dipped snuff; its a small can, so I knew this wasn't possible, but I really pushed her buttons occasionally in an effort to call her bluff.  She was all talk.