That is said in a whiny, double syllable wail. O, Mo-om!!! After I have done something, anything to embarrass my poor sons. Now that they have become well into their 30s, I don’t hear it at all, but when they were teens and young adults, it seemed to be the only phrase they knew – because I seemed to do things that only embarrassed them.
Like the time I wanted my 14-year-old to quit smoking! I was appalled that my little baby, pink-skinned and perfect, would take up something so disgusting (that, and tattoos!) Who ever thought their little bundle would some day sport dragons and swords on their arms, that you had personally made – perfect!
So – I took copies of his 7th grade picture and posted it on every little Ma & Pa store in the neighborhood. Saying something like, “THIS child you are looking at is a MINOR and you will be arrested if you sell him cigarettes.” I didn’t think it worked until one day he came pounding through the house, whining “Oh, Mo-om!!! I can’t believe you did this!” I just smiled.
Then my older son was in the Army in boot camp and I worried about him all alone and forlorn and maybe clinically depressed and no way for me to stroke his hair and make him feel better. So, I bought 30 blank greeting cards with cutesy sayings (Mary Englebriet) like, “Find Your Own Spot” or “Where Ever You Go, There You Are.” I asked all the attorneys and staff in my law firm to help me cheer up my son – and surprisingly, the men from Viet Nam days grabbed up all of the cards – stamped and addressed to my son.
So, he calls me up and “Mo-om!!!” He thanked me for the cards and asked if I could please slow them down. Why?
“I have to do 50 push ups for every card I receive!”