Saturday Morning

Remember that song the Statler's used to sing that talked about the chaos of Saturday mornings? I feel like that is my situation sometimes. But this morning was a little different. No one was yelling or angry. It was very quiet. I fixed Moma's breakfast as she sat with her head in her hands and spoke to God about how bad she felt. Once I placed it in front of her, I sat down at the table to eat my cereal bar and watch "The Nanny" as we usually do on Saturday mornings. Moma complained about the coffee being too hot, the grits were too hot, and the fan was on in my bedroom. She did not yell. She wasn't angry. Matter of factly, she said "This coffee is too damn hot". Then, "Ewwww...I burned my damn mouth on those grits". And then, as calmly as an ocean breeze, she said, "Why in the hell is that damn ceiling fan on?" I nearly choked on my cereal bar. She would have back handed me back in the day. (I have to admit, I think her cursing is funny!)