A Call From Mama
Scene: Marinka is home, sick in bed with a rare combination of swine flu and brain fever. She just read an email from Wendi, who expressed sadness about Marinka's illness:
Marinka tries to regain the will to live when Mama calls.
Mama: How are you feeling, Marinka?
Marinka: Sadly, mama, I cannot boast of good health.
Mama: Did you open the windows to air the germs out?
Marinka: (in hermetically sealed room) Yes.
Mama: Did you the open them in true? Because I know you nervous that Nicki falls out of window.
Marinka: Of course I did. I feel the germs are leaving the apartment. Oh, there goes another one.
Mama: Good. Fresh air is important for health. You need fresh air.
Marinka: I was just reading.
Mama: I was going to watch Judge Judy, but she's not appearing. I don't know.
Marinka: Maybe it's on later.
Mama: Later not convenient. Later I have things to do. I give her ten more minutes.
Marinka: I'm hoping for the best.
Mama: You know, I saw picture of Cindy Crawford's daughters--gorgeous.
Marinka: She has one daughter and one son.
Mama: No, two girls. Beauties.
Marinka: I know the oldest is a boy because his name is Presley. And I am an US Weekly Scholar.
Mama: That means nothing. My neighbor had cat named Elvis. But he was cat, not a boy. Can't go by names these days. Like that Orange.
Marinka: Apple.
Mama: Maybe Tangerine? Something citrus.
Marinka: Apple. Besides, why is it shocking that a supermodel has gorgeous children? If Quasimodo has beautiful children, then it's newsworthy.
Mama: You be surprised. I see attractive parents, ugly children.
Marinka: ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU AND PAPA HAVING ME?
Mama: No. Not about present company. Are you sure it's not Clementine?
Marinka: APPLE! APPLE! APPLE!
Mama: Ok, calm down. This is why you get sick, you worry about nonsense and keep window closed. If it makes you happy, we say Cindy Crawford's daughter is a boy. Named Apple. I'm making joke. Everything is ok, Marinka. Feel better.
Marinka: Thanks, Mama. I am feeling stronger now.
_________________
I am feeling better. Thanks everyone for your expressions of concern about my health. I assume that you've sent these concerns telepathically, since I haven't received any in my inbox. On a related note, whoever said "it's the thought that counts" misspoke. Or misthought. What really counts are gifts. And Apple.
I just want to tell you in complete sincerity, that should your situation become dire and you need donated blood platelets or a kidney, don't hesitate to call Kelcey.
Marinka tries to regain the will to live when Mama calls.
Mama: How are you feeling, Marinka?
Marinka: Sadly, mama, I cannot boast of good health.
Mama: Did you open the windows to air the germs out?
Marinka: (in hermetically sealed room) Yes.
Mama: Did you the open them in true? Because I know you nervous that Nicki falls out of window.
Marinka: Of course I did. I feel the germs are leaving the apartment. Oh, there goes another one.
Mama: Good. Fresh air is important for health. You need fresh air.
Marinka: I was just reading.
Mama: I was going to watch Judge Judy, but she's not appearing. I don't know.
Marinka: Maybe it's on later.
Mama: Later not convenient. Later I have things to do. I give her ten more minutes.
Marinka: I'm hoping for the best.
Mama: You know, I saw picture of Cindy Crawford's daughters--gorgeous.
Marinka: She has one daughter and one son.
Mama: No, two girls. Beauties.
Marinka: I know the oldest is a boy because his name is Presley. And I am an US Weekly Scholar.
Mama: That means nothing. My neighbor had cat named Elvis. But he was cat, not a boy. Can't go by names these days. Like that Orange.
Marinka: Apple.
Mama: Maybe Tangerine? Something citrus.
Marinka: Apple. Besides, why is it shocking that a supermodel has gorgeous children? If Quasimodo has beautiful children, then it's newsworthy.
Mama: You be surprised. I see attractive parents, ugly children.
Marinka: ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT YOU AND PAPA HAVING ME?
Mama: No. Not about present company. Are you sure it's not Clementine?
Marinka: APPLE! APPLE! APPLE!
Mama: Ok, calm down. This is why you get sick, you worry about nonsense and keep window closed. If it makes you happy, we say Cindy Crawford's daughter is a boy. Named Apple. I'm making joke. Everything is ok, Marinka. Feel better.
Marinka: Thanks, Mama. I am feeling stronger now.
_________________
I am feeling better. Thanks everyone for your expressions of concern about my health. I assume that you've sent these concerns telepathically, since I haven't received any in my inbox. On a related note, whoever said "it's the thought that counts" misspoke. Or misthought. What really counts are gifts. And Apple.
Labels: Fun with mama and papa
posted by Marinka at
12:01 AM
29 Comments:
I do hope you get to feeling better soon. On the fresh air part....don't you live in NYC? Fresh Air?
Get in a sauna with lots of water. You will sweat those cooties right out. It works. And for hangovers too.
Or...drink a bunch of tequila. That will kill any germs you have. Then go to the sauna to get over the hangover.
You poor thing! Suffering away over there in NYC with only Nikki serving as your nursemaid. Your stoicism is admirable, but please, next time let us all know so we can tend to your needs more closely.
So glad to hear your Mama has badgered you back to strength.
So...you're sick?
So what is your mama really saying? That she wishes her own grandchildren were as beautiful as a supermodel's? Or apples? Pretty insulting, especially when you don't feel well...
Thank you for not letting your germs out.
Oh, Hunny!!! I'd be right there to nurse you thru this but I live all the way down here in FL...if you get sick this March, I'll be there to get you better! Fingers crossed! Get better! I'm coming up there in a fe months and would LOVE to meet you! Maybe...coming up there, not meeting you - I can't wait to do that...ok, I'm going now. niki is giving me the stink eye...
USweekly scholar? I'm on the floor laughing Marinka.
I was going to send you an email but realized you have 8345 emails in your inbox.
But you're forgetting all about Moses. Where's the love for Moses?!
Hope you feel better soon.
I hate it when I tell a funny story and people tell me they "pee'd a little" because that's just gross. I don't want to know about their incontinence problems.
So when I tell you I pee'd a little with this post - you can be sure it was really funny.
Your mom is the best. You feel miserable but her phone call is so damn funny you must feel better for at least a few minutes.
I tried to send constant telepathic messages to you but the voices in your head kept hanging up on me.
I sincerely love your blog so much, it never fails to make me laugh (or at least chuckle).
Feel better!
Wendi, Kelcey and Marinka. Now there's a coffee date I want to eavesdrop on. Or have a transcription of.
If you die, can I have your collected US Weekly editions? But not the ones with Gosselin on the cover; I do have my standards.
I learned long ago to never argue with a Russian woman, or any woman for that matter. You can't win.
That is why I teach my kids to nod, smile and then do it anyway.
Feel better.
I reached into my bag of chocolate-covered dried cherries; I'd thought there were more but they were ALL GONE. I have taken that pointless sadness and channeled it to feeling sad about your citrus allergy or whatever. I may have omitted an L in channeled, though, so if it doesn't work, that's the problem.
One of those super models named their daughter Clementine. Maybe because they can't eat, they have to give their kids food names?
Will a "poor baby" help at all?
Poor baby....
i think what's really going on here is:
a. you're clearly allergic to nicki.
and
b. mama is hinting that she wants you to buy her a tivo.
My New York Italian mother-in-law always tells me that "the Jews believe in fresh air". Like it's a spiritual practice or something. I guess the Russians do too. She, however, would recommend the hermetic sealing, and spraying everything in the house with Lysol.
Are you STILL sick from that horrific disease that led to the Entenmann's debacle? Because if you are, I say it's about time to ditch the fresh air cure and go see a doctor. But if it's another sickness, I have to admit that I haven't been paying enough attention because I didn't get that memo. Perhaps you should text me next time. I make excellent matzo ball soup, which is my prescription for all things illness.
Also, I have been laughing out loud for a while now at Heather's comment, which honestly deserves a prize of some sort.
What? You didn't get me sending you all those telepathic get well wishes?
Your receiver must be jammed. Try opening a window.
You clearly have no real desire to help yourself since you shunned my offer of blood for your transfusion. Hmpf!
Wendi is so generous to offer my blood platelets. And she mentioned that she's willing to put you up at the Soho Grand for a few weeks so that you can recover in peace and luxury. Oh, and room service is on her too.
I guess Wendi knows that I'm saving all my platelets for when George Clooney needs me
Oh my goodness, I love the interactions with you and your mother. That was priceless. Your comedic timing is so fantastic, I jussa LUV ya!!!
Do you know this saying: "An Apple a day helps keep the doctor away"(?) It is either completely appropriate or utterly inappropriate in this context. (However, Apple is not usually capitalized in the saying, obviously.)
i love fun with mama and papa. those are my favourites. hilarious.
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