Mrs. Goldstein is such a peach, really.
Who: Anthony and his mum.
What: She's insane and this is proof. Basically? His mother finds out he has a flat and is herself about it.
When: Saturday night, or Sunday morning depending on how you look at it.
"Hello?"
Anthony's phone had rang at a little past two in the morning - for a second he was worried that Su had abandoned her promise to never show Morag how to work a phone - and he found himself to be more than a bit glad that Padma wasn't spending the night, especially since it was his mother on the other end and any conversation he had with that woman would ruin his mood.
"Can't tell your own mother when you move, can you?"
Any sleep left in him dissipated at the sound of his mother's voice and Anthony sighed heavily. "Hello, mum."
"Don't you 'hello, mum' me. I called your father looking for you, only to find out you moved into your own flat weekends ago and didn't tell me, never mind the fact that I was forced to have a conversation with that man. Tell me why your father's the only one in the entire family - and yes I did call - to anything, hmm?"
It was muscle straining, keeping himself from saying, "because I actually like him," it really was. It was even harder not to point out the obvious fact that he had been living with his father and that his father would notice when he was never there anymore.
Instead, he said, "I mean to, really."
His mother made this clucking noise on the other end that sounded exactly like a chicken to Anthony before saying, "Fine. I've already talked to your father about this - " Which Anthony highly doubted; his mother's definition of talking was telling until a person gave in.
" - And we both agreed - " He gave in, Anthony thought - "To the idea of dinner at your new home. You can even invite that girlfriend of yours."
Anthony bit his lip hard enough that it could've drawn blood. Padma was "that girlfriend," and Anthony bet that his mother was thinking "that witch" instead. And don't get him started on the fact that his mother was giving him permission to have her over.
"Of course, mum," Anthony said, the words forced.
"By the by, how serious are you with her, anyway? I was coming back from the market the other day and I saw Lisa Jones visiting her parents across the street. She's really grown up, you know, fixed all those blemishes - thankfully or she'd be unmarried and a virgin for the rest of her life, and she has a great career ahead of her."
"Mum - " Anthony started, only to be cut off.
"And, I showed her a picture of you, that nice one from the reunion last year, and I saw her eyes positively light up - "
"Mum. I've been with Padma for almost four years. I'd say we were pretty serious."
"Oh." She paused. "Pity."
Anthony bit his lip harder. "When's the dinner?"
"Oh, right, of course. I think think next Sunday would be good. I'll cook. You just make sure it's presentable for guests, all right? There's nothing like a pig sty to make you look incompetent."
If asked, Anthony wouldn't be able to tell you what his mother said in the next two minutes. It all went through one ear and out the other, his only replies - in this exact order - being, "Right, mum. Of course, mum. I'll make sure of it, mum. Right, mum. No, mum. No need to worry, mum. Yes, mum. Yes, mum. That's really all right, don't worry about it, mum. Yes, mum. You asked me that twice already."
Until, finally, he said, "bye, mum," and hung up the phone.
He flopped back on his bed, closing his eyes and sighing. This coming Sunday, he was going to get a very up close and personal glimpse into hell.
What: She's insane and this is proof. Basically? His mother finds out he has a flat and is herself about it.
When: Saturday night, or Sunday morning depending on how you look at it.
"Hello?"
Anthony's phone had rang at a little past two in the morning - for a second he was worried that Su had abandoned her promise to never show Morag how to work a phone - and he found himself to be more than a bit glad that Padma wasn't spending the night, especially since it was his mother on the other end and any conversation he had with that woman would ruin his mood.
"Can't tell your own mother when you move, can you?"
Any sleep left in him dissipated at the sound of his mother's voice and Anthony sighed heavily. "Hello, mum."
"Don't you 'hello, mum' me. I called your father looking for you, only to find out you moved into your own flat weekends ago and didn't tell me, never mind the fact that I was forced to have a conversation with that man. Tell me why your father's the only one in the entire family - and yes I did call - to anything, hmm?"
It was muscle straining, keeping himself from saying, "because I actually like him," it really was. It was even harder not to point out the obvious fact that he had been living with his father and that his father would notice when he was never there anymore.
Instead, he said, "I mean to, really."
His mother made this clucking noise on the other end that sounded exactly like a chicken to Anthony before saying, "Fine. I've already talked to your father about this - " Which Anthony highly doubted; his mother's definition of talking was telling until a person gave in.
" - And we both agreed - " He gave in, Anthony thought - "To the idea of dinner at your new home. You can even invite that girlfriend of yours."
Anthony bit his lip hard enough that it could've drawn blood. Padma was "that girlfriend," and Anthony bet that his mother was thinking "that witch" instead. And don't get him started on the fact that his mother was giving him permission to have her over.
"Of course, mum," Anthony said, the words forced.
"By the by, how serious are you with her, anyway? I was coming back from the market the other day and I saw Lisa Jones visiting her parents across the street. She's really grown up, you know, fixed all those blemishes - thankfully or she'd be unmarried and a virgin for the rest of her life, and she has a great career ahead of her."
"Mum - " Anthony started, only to be cut off.
"And, I showed her a picture of you, that nice one from the reunion last year, and I saw her eyes positively light up - "
"Mum. I've been with Padma for almost four years. I'd say we were pretty serious."
"Oh." She paused. "Pity."
Anthony bit his lip harder. "When's the dinner?"
"Oh, right, of course. I think think next Sunday would be good. I'll cook. You just make sure it's presentable for guests, all right? There's nothing like a pig sty to make you look incompetent."
If asked, Anthony wouldn't be able to tell you what his mother said in the next two minutes. It all went through one ear and out the other, his only replies - in this exact order - being, "Right, mum. Of course, mum. I'll make sure of it, mum. Right, mum. No, mum. No need to worry, mum. Yes, mum. Yes, mum. That's really all right, don't worry about it, mum. Yes, mum. You asked me that twice already."
Until, finally, he said, "bye, mum," and hung up the phone.
He flopped back on his bed, closing his eyes and sighing. This coming Sunday, he was going to get a very up close and personal glimpse into hell.