Mom strikes again - Cooking Fun

I made lasagna last week (hot damn! it was delicious) but once again it seemed to take forever to cook.  Honestly, it probably should have cooked longer but we were starving.  So a couple days later when I was at my mom's...

me:  I don't know why my lasagna never cooks right.  I follow your recipe to the letter.

mom:  oh, well maybe it's the stove.  or maybe it's the pan you're using?

me:  I use the same damn glass pan that you use.

mom:  I don't use a glass pan.

me:  Yes, you do.  It's the same one you use for the sweet potatoes.

mom:  But I don't use it for the lasagna.

me:  Yes, you do.

mom:  No, I use the brown pan.

*Just told me last week that I could borrow the brown pan to transport cupcakes because it's my grandma's old pan from the 60s that she NEVER USES FOR ANYTHING.*

me: ...

mom:  It's probably the glass pan that's the problem.  Glass usually takes longer to cook than metal.

me:  I'm well aware...


*The next day*

me: Hunny, didn't mom give us that glass pan?

le boyfriend:  I dunno.

me:  I'm serious.  That wasn't something we bought together, right?

le boyfriend:  I don't think so.

me:  Goddamnit!  I knew it!  I swear to god I remember shopping at Target with mom and her buying that pan for me so I could specifically make lasagna in it!


Seriously... it's like she plans these things.

Christmas Shopping with Mom

Me: What's your Amazon password?  Is it X?

Mom: What password?  Oh, it's Y.

Me: No it's not.  Is it X?

Mom: No no, it's Y.

Me: Oh look, X worked.  I told you it was X.

Mom: I don't want you knowing my passwords.

Me: Well if I didn't know them, you wouldn't fucking know them.

Mom: Oh... then what's this password for?

Me: Your account

Mom: What account?

Me: Your Amazon account?

Mom: Why do I need an account?

Me: So you can order things

Mom: Oh, so X is my account?

Me: No, X is your password.  For your account.  You type in your email and password to log in.

Mom: Why do I need a password/account?

Me: You don't want just anyone using your credit card on here.

Mom: My credit card's on there?

Me: No it's not saved yet.  I don't have to save it.  But still, you don't want anyone in your account.  I don't want you in mine.

Mom: Well I'd pay you back.

Me: You wouldn't have to if you used your card with my account.  I just don't want you messing up my settings.  I know you would.

Mom: Oh... so now I have an account?  So now I can order things on my own?

Me: Yes, I made it for you months ago!  Don't you remember?

Mom: No.....

Me: WTF?!  It was a very traumatic experience.  How do you not remember??!

Mom: I don't

Me: You specifically asked me to come over.  You said you couldn't make an account because it kept giving you my email address and saying it was taken.  You don't remember any of this?!

Mom: No

Me: (staring in horror as I realize this is my future: fucking dementia)

Merry Christmas, everyone!

"How to Internet" by My Mom

So my mother decides she wants to order a replacement light for her makeup mirror.  It's a special size and shape so she has no choice but to use the internet to find one.  That was her first mistake...

My mom finds one on Amazon, but she doesn't want to use my account (finally!) so she has to make her own account.  I guess, according to her, I was supposed to show her how, but she never remembers when I'm over to visit. 

Anyway, she brings the computer into the kitchen while I'm finishing dinner and tells me how it won't let her make a new account.  I find this hard to believe, but I ask her to explain.  She claims that every time she tries to make a new account, it gives her my account and all these messages that her email is already tied to an account.  Well, that gets me wondering if her email was somehow tied to my account from back when I was under 18. 

I ask her to click the "create account" link.  She clicks it and everything works fine.  She's able to create her new account.  "But it didn't do that when you weren't here!" she cries.  It took me a minute but I realized what had been happening earlier is that the browser was auto-filling in my email address when she was undoubtedly clicking the "log in" button instead.

OK, so now she has an account.  She's all set, right?  Ha.  Ha ha.  HAHAHAHAHA.

The light is already saved in her cart so she proceeds to checkout.  She's laboring painfully on the payment page.  I start to pace and peek over her shoulder, to ensure she doesn't do something stupid like send a million dollars to a Nigerian scam artist.

"I'm not stupid."   Oh?  "The reason I go so slow is not because I don't know what I'm doing but because I can't see."  She's totally wearing her glasses FYI.  "When you get old you just can't see these little things."  Uh huh...

I squint a little at the computer screen.  "Mom, your name isn't 'Vias'." 

Seriously... "The 'name on card' isn't Visa either.  It's YOUR name.  You type your name there."  So much for not being able to see.

We finally get through the payment and she gets to the receipt screen.  She proceeds to bookmark it.  "Mom, what are you doing?"

"I'm bookmarking this page in case I don't get the email."

"Mom, those expire after a while.  Why don't you just print the page?"

"No, it's never expired for me before.  I don't want to print it."

"Fine......................  Well, why don't you just open a new tab and see if you've gotten the email yet?"

"Huh?"

"Click the plus sign!  It opens a new tab in your browser.  You can check your email WHILE keeping this receipt page up!"  I'm close to hyperventilating at this point... trust me, reading a typed out version does not do justice to the actual experience of dealing with my mother.

"I didn't know you could do that."  Of course not.

So we go into her email and she starts bitching about all the spam emails she gets from various online shopping sites.  I can sympathize.  I've had to unsubscribe from a lot of companies I really like because I just can't keep up with the volume of useless emails they send me.  So I suggest that she lets me help her unsubscribe from their email lists.

"No.  I want to order from them someday."

"Mom... you don't need to be on their mailing list to order from their website.  Just let me unsubscribe you!"

She proceeds to delete the email and gets all flustered.  "No no.  I don't want you to touch anything.  I have my reasons."  Which I'm pretty sure is code for 'I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.'

Once again I have lost the battle of the internet to mom.