motherhood is hard.

Whenever we pass a certain house on our walk to the grocery store, my mom would comment about the peach tree that was bearing fruit in the yard of that house. She would say how wonderful those peaches looked, and wondered why they didn’t pick them and eat them already. Part of the branches were hanging outside the fence, so today I trespassed by walking up the side driveway of the house, and picked one of the peaches outside the fence.

My mom said that I needed to eat it quickly or else I’ll be caught for stealing or the grocery store clerks would think that I took one of their peaches! I kept walking nonchalantly and brushed the dirt off the peach
and took a small bite. It was bland and spongy. I told mom to take a bite too and she was disgusted with it. she said that only sweet potatoes would taste good with spongy texture like that. I said maybe this was a sweet potato peach, and she thought it was funny. I said that instead of a monkey stealing peaches (from a famous chinese folklore), I was a piglet stealing peaches since I was born in the year of the pig. She found that humorous too.

I told mom that I knew she had this illusion about how wonderful those peaches must taste, so I wanted her to find out once and for all whether her fantasy was justified! Now she’ll have something new to say about them the next time we pass by that house… although… she’s recently found another house with a big tree chock full of apricots that she’s been admiring.

Later in the afternoon the postman delivered the usual junk mail. I took the circulars over to the garden where mom and I sat on the grass looking at the junk mail. I looked at the Harry & David catalog where the pears are always in display, and mom said that those pears are often very sour, at least the ones she’s tried.

I told her that I thought so too, but then one of my girlfriends introduced me to the pears and bought me a box for Christmas a few years ago because she was surprised at how great they tasted. When I tried them, I was blown away by how sweet and juicy they were. I told my mom that it was so amazing that I was speechless, which made her laugh (probably because I am rarely speechless).

It was nice to hear her laugh, because it gave me a glimpse of what she was like when / if she were happy. it made me want to buy her some of these pears for her birthday.

Maybe the secret to getting along a bit better with mom is try to make her laugh.