While eating dinner at Cantina Mayahuel last Tuesday night, The Gaydi Project dropped mole on her long, white skirt. The sauce actually slid from her fork onto the table but since the table was made of swirling wrought iron, the mole ended up in her lap. She’d already had a couple of drinks but spills are commonplace for my mother with or without booze, so it wasn’t exactly surprising. Surprising would have been making it through that dinner with her clothing clean and not tucked into the unmentionables.
We scrambled to hand her extra napkins and she worked to wipe the mole off without rubbing it in, an impossible task that she seemed determined to prove possible. She muttered a few oh shits and I’m so embarrasseds before her friend Jon turned to me and said in his lazy southern drawl, “That Gaydi! Ah just love her…she’s so fun! When the boys and Ah go out with her, we lahk to tell people she’s a fay-muss, former Russian ballerina.”
Jon shook his head and waved his hands wide to convey the seriousness of this information. “She’s whirrld fay-muss!”
At this point, she choked on the margarita of which she’d just taken a sip and had to work very hard not to spit it out all over the porous table.
It’s nearly impossible not to forgive the foibles of a fay-muss Russian Ballerina.
10 responses so far ↓
1 Jenn @ Juggling Life // Jun 9, 2008 at 3:40 pm
Why do I think the apple does not fall far from the tree?!
2 stupidmommy // Jun 9, 2008 at 3:53 pm
Will you puh-leeze tell us what “The Gaydi Project” means? Great photo, by the way (as usual).
3 Martha // Jun 9, 2008 at 4:15 pm
Mole stains won’t come off, sad to say. But it is delish!
Gaydi almost looks not of this earth (in a very good way, mind you!)
4 aaryn b. // Jun 9, 2008 at 4:56 pm
@jenn: True. And I’ve written about that before. But I like to think I’m not quite as…mishap-prone. I’m thinking I’ll get there, however. Give me more time to ripen.
@stupidmommy, I’ve told you before: Being with my mother is an event. It takes energy and planning and scheduling and maneuvering and tongue-biting. In other words, she is a walking, talking, drinking, laughing, three dimensional, ongoing project. And her name is Gaydi. So, I call her “The Gaydi Project.” Sort of like Alan Parsons. Only I think he doesn’t live up to the name.
@Martha: She’s absolutely not of this world. But not in the Christian NOTW-decal-on-the-back-of-a-giant-SUV sorta way. In a pagan, smoke-a-ton-of-weed-and-color-outside-the-lines kinda way.
5 Mrs. G. // Jun 9, 2008 at 8:56 pm
I know I would like the Gaydi Project-other people’s mothers are so much fun. Love the photo.
6 Amanda // Jun 9, 2008 at 9:35 pm
That is the best imitation of a Southern accent that I’ve ever read.
7 Cheri @ Blog This Mom! // Jun 9, 2008 at 11:18 pm
Will she autograph my daughter’s ballet shoes?
8 stacy // Jun 10, 2008 at 1:03 am
that’s my favorite picture of your mother–but also the 1970s one.
9 stupidmommy // Jun 10, 2008 at 6:57 am
You explained this before? Was I not paying attention? Here I was, thinking I hung on your every word. Oh well. Thanks for re-explaining.
10 Jamie // Jun 11, 2008 at 8:09 am
I’d say she looks more like an Isabella Rosellini than a Mikhail Baryshnikov. But now I can only imagine her with a Southern accent…
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