Steep Road Ahead
Bruce: (whispering quietly to the person in the passenger seat next to him) Mama, hey mama, wakey wakey eggs ‘n cakey!!!
Mother: (quietly, subconsciously not wanting to be disturbed) err mhhh.
Bruce: Hey mama, we’re almost at the split, you need to wake up now. We’re about ten miles away, come on mama.
Mother: Why, hello there Brucey baby. Where are we?
Bruce: We’re almost at the split.
Mother: Oh, how nice, very nice. The weather is pitch-perfect- ain’t it, Bruce?
Bruce: Mama, you crack me up like an egg being prepared for one of aunt June’s famous baby cakes! It’s gonna be rainin for the rest of the week! You remember the weatherman saying that don’t ya mama?
Mother: Yes, I’m just making fun with you honey. Are you sure you know where you’re going? Should I get tha’ map out?
Mother: Are you sure? (Reaching for glove compartment) I have a map right here, here let me git it son. It’ll just take a second. We’ll know where we’re going faster than you can say Jiminy Cricket! We didn’t always have those fancy gizmos you know, we were only lucky enough to get them last year thanks to the good Lord, now none of you young’uns can get around without street signs. What do you think we did before?
Bruce: I don’t know momma, maybe talk’d to them magical aliens you always go off about.
Mother: They was hovering right above me, I’m tellin’ ya! (after a brief pause) I’m gonna get that map whether you like it or not.
Bruce: Alright momma, do whatever keeps your overalls blue.
Mother: Now it says here, hmmm, mmmm, oh, okay, yup, yup, yup, that after the split we need to bear left onto the transcontinental freeway for approximately three days and then merge onto route...
Bruce: What map are you lookin’ at? That seems like the darndest route I’ve ever heard. (muttering) Three days...yeah...on whose paycheck?
Bruce: Yeah I thought so.
Mother: Oh what was that Brucey pie? This map is quite nice, makes a girl think she ought to be a calligrapher.
Bruce: You heard me loud and square momma. I know my own route, it’ll take us there much sooner than THREE DAYS!
Mother: Oh yeah? Bruce it wouldn’t hurt if just listened to me once in a while. I’m your mother.
Bruce: Just because you’re my mother doesn’t mean I need ya to do everythin’ for me.
Mother: I understand that honey, but you know it’s better if we don’t get lost.
Bruce: Clarice, for the last time I am goin’ my own route, thank you very much, now leave me to it!
Mother: Don’t give me no lip son, you can’t tell the difference between stew and a tomato! Never call ya mama by her name, it’s damn disrespectful. Remember, I always know best.
Bruce: Yes (sarcastically) Madame.
Mother: Oh good Lord, please smack some sense into this young’un. I didn’t carry you around in my kidneys for a year for you to treat me like this. I had to stop mud jumping because of you! All because of you!!! I had a career goin’ for me, I was gonna make it big! I had the best scores in the state!
Bruce: Momma, it’s just I need you to give me s’um freedom. You can latch and snatch their freedom right from under ‘em, like a mosquito on the Fourth of July, sometimes a bother!
Mother: (crying) You just go and keep on hatin’ your poor mama, she don’t mean nothin’ to you. If I died, y’all would go off and celebrate, ‘n sell m’ corpse to the devil.
Bruce: Oh mama, I didn’t mean to go and upset you like that, you know I love you! It’s just hard sometimes to say what I need to say, without hurting you.
Mother: (insultingly) Good Lord Bruce, I’m not some delicate tractor engine that needs to be oiled every two minutes. I can handle it, I’m not weak, you better not be callin’ your dear mother weak!
Bruce: I would never, mame. I just gone been worried about your crying.
Mother: I don’t need no damn son worrying about me, isn’t that what you're all worried about?
Chuck: You mean cartographer momma?
Bruce: What you talkin’ ‘bout boy?
Chuck: (hesitant) ‘makes a girl think she ought to be a calligrapher’, a cartographer is someone who makes maps.
Bruce: Chuck you ain’t no help.
Mother: Oh Lord have mercy! Both of my children attackin’ me, and attackin’ each other. What’s next? Will the car implode from all this sin?!? The Lord will surely thrust me into the bowels of hell. I am a victim of a horrible family, I will die lonely!
Bruce: Mother I think you need to calm down and relax. It gone been a long car ride, we’re all just a wee bit cranky like a rooster on pluckin’ day. Momma?
Bruce: Hello there, earth to momma! Have the aliens come for you again?
Bruce: (looking at the steep road ahead) I just don’t know if we’re ever gonna git there.