Etchings in the Sand…

Thoughts and Photos from the Desert…

Momisms – My Mother Was a Rare Character…

My two sisters and I recently put together a series of familiar sayings of my mother. Mom was a rare character. Not your typical granny. Her language was frequently earthy. And we loved her dearly. We get together and laugh until we either cry or wet our pants.

Here are a few “Momisms” as Sally put it. I’ve deleted a few and edited a few more, but you get the idea.

Momisms

Sit down before you get knocked down

If you’re so goddamn smart, do it yourself.

That might be funny to you but it ain’t funny to Grandma.

There’s no fool like an old fool

Dr. Vaughan says ‘ A drunkard’s death is the most peaceful of all.’

It’s hotter than the hinges of hell.

Looks like the Tussys live here.

Your room looks like a pigsty.

Don’t blow your nose at the table

If you’re doing that for my benefit, you can stop

He drives like a bat out of hell

Your hair looks like a rat chewed on it

Don’t dress like a hussy

You don’t see your grandmother’s feet on the table

Take off that damned baseball cap in the house

Eat that pea

Ghosty ghosty

You’re a bunch of spoiled brats

There’s no room for two bitches in the same kitchen

Don’t drink out of the milk bottle, damn it

Grab it and growl

Chock ‘er, Bart. She’s headed toward the barn

Just show’s to go ya’

Bend, Hilda, and pick it up.

Do as I say do, not as I do

And then there was the one about sending little Johnny to the store to get a lb. of peas and ask how Mrs. Jones is. So he walked all the way to the store saying ‘a pound of peas and how’s Mrs Jones’ ‘a pound of peas and how’s Mrs Jones’ He gets to the store and goes up to Mr. Jones and says ‘a pound of peas and how’s Mrs. Jones’ and Mr Jones says ‘split or whole?’ and Johnny says ‘her did???’

Laughed so hard, I thought I’d die – I thought my pants would never dry

Don’t leave the milk carton on the table

The great silver bird in the sky

Shut the door! Were you brought up in a barn?

Eat what is put before you

All kids are brats, some are just worse than others.

This may partially explain why our now elder Bourland brats are what we turned out to be. A bit weird.

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