Mom’s Inability to Send Text Messages

Ever since I got the Korean food hook up from CJ, I’ve occasionally used their spicy Korean BBQ sauce to make chicken wings. Jas, like most red-blooded American men, loves chicken wings, and he’s a huge fan of using the Bibigo sauce on them despite the fact that anything remotely spicy makes him sweat buckets. Recently he had a hankering for wings so we whipped some up. Since my mom is now capable of receiving picture mail, I sent her a photo of our dinner in an effort to convince her I don’t mess up everything I try to cook:

She left a voicemail shortly after that, which I’ve transcribed verbatim:

Mom: “Rebeccaaaaa. We have big storm. I’m sitting here, dark. A little while ago, I see your, um, chicken. Gochujang chicken? That chicken. That’s a gochujang sauce. Chicken legs. Look good. So I re-ply, but I say ‘Justin’ ‘stead of ‘Jason.’ Oh my gahhh! I guess I’m getting old. So don’t tell him that, okay? Just say ‘Jason.’ I say ‘Justin,’ you know? So don’t tell him that!”

Three things:

1. Yes my mom said “re-ply” as if it were two words (“re” and “ply”).
2. Jason and I have been dating for nearly eight years. Before that I dated a guy named Justin. I can understand initial confusion considering the two names are similar, but really, after eight years she’s still getting them confused?
3. Speaking of “re-ply,” what’s this response she was talking about? I never got any sort of text message reply from her. I thought she didn’t even know how to send one.

I returned her call to get the story straight.

Mom: “You get my message?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Mom: “Oh my gahhhh, I say ‘Justin,’ not ‘Jason’! Don’t tell him I say that!”

Me, laughing: “I can see how you’d get confused. We’ve only been dating for eight short years.”

Mom: “…I say ‘Justin.'”

Me: “Yeah, you’ve mentioned that. What’s this reply you were talking about? I never got a reply.”

Mom, angry: “Mia say she don’t get my re-plies either! I don’t know what the deal is! Phone or something!”

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Mom: I send re-plies to you and I send re-ply to something Mia sent too. She never get it and you don’t get it. What the heck.”

Me: “You sure you sent a response to the picture mail I sent?”

Mom, indignant: “Yes, I’m sure! I write, ‘Mmmm mmmm, that looks good.'”

At this point I lost it, laughing my ass off over the contents of my mother’s super important text message.

Mom: “…then I write, ‘Jason is a good cook.’ But instead of JASON I write JUSTIN.”

Me: “Yes, you’ve made that quite clear.”

Mom: “My gah. Don’t tell him!”

I like her repeated pleas not to tell my boyfriend she got his name wrong, as if he’ll be highly offended by the actions of a woman who kept bringing up how big he used to be when she saw a slimmed-down version of him last October.

Me: “I won’t.” (I already did. He laughed.)

Mom: “This phone piece of junk. This fall I get eye…eye one.”

Me: “An iPhone?”

Mom: “Yeah, I get eye-phone in fall. Then I send re-plies.”

Oh goody.

(photo credit: (e)Spry via photopin cc)