Dr. Mom

I used to fake being sick a lot when I was a youngster to get out of school. It was very difficult though because my mother always had a way to cure my illness.

Me - "Mom I feel sick"
Mom - "What's the matter?"
Me - "My stomach hurts"
Mom - " Go sit on the toilet for a while you'll feel better"

Now, this almost makes sense. The problem was no matter what I said was wrong with me, her answer was always to tell me to sit on the damn toilet.

Me - "Ma my throat hurts real bad"
Mom - "Go sit on the toilet until you feel better"

Now in this situation maybe I can assume she knew I was faking and was trying to say that I have been talking shit.... But it's a stretch. Still, she used ti even more!

Me - "MA COME QUICK I WAS PLAYING ONE MAN DODGEBALL AND I KNOCKED A TOOTH OUT!"
Mom - " JUST PICK UP YOUR TOOTH AND GO SIT ON THE TOILET FOR A WHILE"

I asked my dentist and he said having my pale ass on a cold toilet seat will in no way help me with a dislodged tooth!

Me - "Ma can I talk to you?"
Mom - "Ugh I guess. Hurry up before Real Sex 317 comes on. What's wrong now Bitch?"
Me - "You know the girl I have been seeing?"
Mom - "By girl do you mean Gay Man?"
Me - " Ma! For the last time I am not gay! I just like the Golden Girls!!"
Mom - "The clock is tickin"
Me - "Well this girl, who has a real vagina she was born with, and I broke up, and now she is going out with my friend Beefma."
Mom - "Aww. That's rough. Why don't you go grab some cookies and go sit on the toilet for a while. You'll feel much better"

This may shock and stun you people, but I went to therapy for several years, and not once did my therapist tell me to spend the session on the toilet. Well except for that one time, but I didn't know the dangers of eating Wow Potato Chips back then.

Ninety-nine percent of the time sitting ont he toilet didn't help me at all. Unfortunately my mom programmed me all too well. Now I run to the bathroom for any problem.

A bee stings me and I run to the toilet
I get tomato sauce stains on a white shirt and I hightail it to the washroom.
I lose my keys and I book it to the john for some porcelain to ass time.
If no one comments on this blog, guess where I will be.

I dread the day I am in a public place, and all the stalls are full so I am forced to sit on a urinal while I wait for a splinter to fall out.