Free Tempted by Cj Paul

competitive with me, or more laughable yet, are intimidated by me – which I wi ll never understand.   I used to socialize with Danielle, my producer at the radio station, but she moved out of state for a great new job and we haven’t managed to keep in touch.
    But, no matter.   I’ve made a few engaging female friends online. And, loathe as I am to admit it, Mom and I have become closer – ever since the muddied white pants incident.   Her reaction was not one of anger.   Just the opposite.   It was respect!   That snarky, passive-aggressive maneuver on my part caused my own mother to treat me with kindness and compassion for the first time in my life.   Heck, if I’d known that’s all it would take, I would have pelted her with mud pies years ago!  
    Mom and I have been spending a lot more time together, including quiet time.   We have grown to enjoy one another’s company to the point that we’ll spend afternoons together, each doing our own thing.   Every now and then , she will hear me guffaw about something I notice on Facebook and she’ll ask to see it for herself.   Just last week she called late at night to tell me she’d made a decision – she wants a Facebook account and I have the privilege of setting it up for her.
    When I do so , she enjoys it so much that she has me create accounts for most of her church buddies, who have collectively become instant addicts.   Mom’s even found Farmville and, begrudgingly, I feel obliged to show her the ropes, which I’d learned from my own obsession with the game during my first weeks on Facebook.   Soon , Mom’s farm is the envy of all her friends, and she is quite satisfied and smug about its awesomeness.   Deja vu.
    Mom has invited me to be friends on Facebook and our relationship momentarily reverts t o its antagonistic former state when I decline her kind offer.   I give some lame excuse about only using the site for business and how she’d be bored by all of my business posts.   She’s not buying it.   When I tell her that I don’t even interact with April there, she seems somewhat placated.   While she likes April as a person, my mom has always harbored a hefty dose of jealousy when it comes to anyone who steals a piece of my heart or large chunks of my time.   In fact, she reminds me a lot of my pup Persephone in some ways.   The thought makes me laugh aloud , considering how anti-pet my mom is.   Having spent many summers on her grandparents’ farm, she just can’t seem to embrace the concept of having animals around , unless they are to fatten up for a family meal.
    It really has been fun getting to know Mom.   Turns out she was something of a wild child in her early twenties.   Though a teetotaler now, she’s been sharing old photos with me , and I’ve seen some mighty glamorous snapshots of her back in the day.   This is a side of her I haven’t seen, photos in which she’s fettaskettering and casamotoring – her crowd’s underground lingo for ‘ smoking ’ and ‘ drinking. ’   Wow, she was beautiful – movie star beautiful, actually.
    Two topics she has not changed her opinions on over the years are religion and sex.   She was very involved in her church’s youth ministry growing up , and is equally involved with church-related activities now.   All of her friends are from her church , and Mom is on more committees than I can list, some with long and preposterous names that I claim to forget just so I can ask her to repeat them for my amusement.   They crack me up in the same way Dickens’ fictitious business name, The United Metropolitan Improved Hot Muffin and   Crumpet   Baking and   Punctual Delivery   Company, does in Nicholas Nickleby .
    Her favorite part of church work is the Flower Committee, and rumor has it, the pastor has thanked me in front of the congregation for the lovely floral arrangements I’ve donated to the church.   Donation, nothing – Mother ’s been pilfer ing my