Three iPods and a Funeral

Mom was seated low in her car. Verrrry low. Practically scraping the pavement, gangsta-style. She peeped out at me, her nose just over the window edge. She was in the library parking lot, intercepting me as I left.

"I'm on my way to Chipotle!" I passionately announced.

"Oh, no! You don't eat there, do you? You'll get E. coli!"

"You can't make a burrito without getting some rat feces in there, Mom. Come on."

Mom had just been to the Apple store, where she bought her second iPod in as many days. The other she had bought at Best Buy. As for her third iPod, it was ten years old and not working. It had 700 Paul Anka songs downloaded on it, which was possibly why it wasn't working.

"But it's working now. The girl just pressed a few buttons and now it's working!"

"Great. So now you have three iPods. Maybe you should open your own Apple store?"

"I thought about getting the nicest iPod. Those hold four hundred billion songs. And you can play solitaire, too!"

"Is that the new one?" I pointed to the passenger seat.

"No, that's my phone. My new iPhone."

"So now you have two cell phones, and a land line. Which number am I supposed to call?"

"Call my old cell phone. It has extra minutes on it now. I bought 100 more."

"Why? I thought you were trying to burn up the minutes on the old one."

"But I bought 100 more."

"Oh, okay, then."

"But call my landline for now. I'm giving my phones a rest."

"But you're not home, so how...?"

"Please don't argue with me about this. I suppose I need to be more logical like a man. I just had to have three boys!"

Someone honked behind Mom. They wanted to get into the parking lot.

"Go around!" Mom yelled.

"Okay, I'm off to get some bacteria..."

"I also saw the attorney about my estate. I don't want anyone to say anything at my funeral. Just plop me in a hole in the ground. And I don't want to be cremated!"

"Right. No words. No cremation. Anyway, I..."

"I'm on a fixed income. I really can't afford this attorney, you know. He's charging me an arm and a leg just so I can die properly."

"Well, death. Anyway, lunch..."

"Wait, wait! Take this receipt. I want you to return the iPod and get my money back!"

"Which one?"

"The first one! Here..."

Another car honked.

"Mom, this is a Walgreen's receipt."

"I have to go. People are honking-- Oh, honk yourself!"

There was a line of cars backed up behind Mom. She pulled out more crumpled receipts from her purse. Crumpled tissues and burial instructions fell out.

"Mom, we can--"

"Here, I found it!"

She thrust the Best Buy receipt on me.

"Okay."

"Will you promise to return the iPod for me? Or will you forget?"

"I promise. Hey, do you want to come inside and meet Carol?"

"No!" Screech, and she was off to buy more iStuff.