Mom Catches Me Red-Shouldered

In August I completed my second Ironman. The first time I raced that distance was in 2010. As you recall, that time Mom was unconvinced I’d finish in one piece but was relieved I had finished alive and well. She was once again worried that I had signed up to do another “Macho Man” race, but I assured her that I would be fine.

The day before the race, I called Mom to remind her that I was racing.

Me: “My race is tomorrow.”

Mom: “Yeah?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m doing another Ironman, remember?”

Mom: “Really? Where?”

This woman never remembers anything I tell her.

Me: “The same place where I did my race two years ago.”

Mom: “…Toronto?”

Me: “No, Penticton.”

Mom: “Oh. What kind of race? Swimming, same thing?”

Me: “Yeah, swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, run 26.2 miles.”

Mom: “Gahhhhhh. Better be careful. Really! Honestly.”

Me: “Don’t worry, I will.”

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Me: “No, it’s all back-to-back.”

Mom: “My gahhhh. Don’t forget to eat pasta…and beef…and chicken! Give you energy. If you were with me, I’d feed you good food.”

Me, laughing: “Okay, I’ll be sure to fuel up before my race.”

I did the race and posted an improvement over the last time I did it, but I also crashed early on in the bike leg and sustained some injuries (scrapes, bruised ribs, a concussion). Afterwards I put off calling my mom because I didn’t want to freak her out by telling her about my bike accident, so I kind of avoided the little Korean woman for about a week.

Unfortunately, my brother John is a gigantic butthole and ratted me out. I had sent him this picture of my shoulder via text message:

The day after I sent it, he met my mom for lunch and showed her the damage. Shortly after that, I noticed a missed call from my mom. It was Labor Day weekend and I was in Vancouver for the holiday to do some post-Ironman R&R, so I didn’t check my voicemail until I was back across the border. When I finally listened to my mom’s voice message, my reaction was a mixture of horror, fear, and great amusement.

The following is a verbatim transcription of the message my mom left for me:

Mom: “REBECCA!!!!!!!”

She screeched my name so loud that I winced and pulled the phone away from my ear, then checked to see if I had accidentally changed my phone to speaker setting. (I hadn’t.)

Mom: “How’s your boo boo?! MY GAHHHH, I KNEW IT!! I told you! You be careful! OH MY GAHH, I KNOW EVERYTHING!! You think I don’t know. I see the picture, everything. I couldn’t even eat after I see the picture. Oh my gahhhh. I hope you feel better. You better think twice, do that thing again, okay?!! Okay. I love you. Take care of that boo boo. Unnnhhhhh [distraught noise], okayyyyy, talk to you laterrrrrr [sad voice, sounds like she’s pouting or crying], bye.”

She caught me red-shouldered (it’s like red-handed, only with more Asian mom guilt). All because my brother is a snitch.

*Note*: I had to republish this post after my hosting company accidentally ate it. I was able to recover the content but not the comments. 🙁