Julie walks in Mom’s room to deliver a hot pack, as per Mom’s request three minutes prior. Mom is laying flat on her back, eyes closed, with the massage table headrest inexplicably on her face, using her arms to breast-stroke in the air.

Julie: Mom, what are you doing?

Mom: This life vest is not working! It’s just pushing me down!

Julie: Well, that could be because it’s not a life vest

Julie removes the headrest from Mom’s face. She pauses, then continues to breast stroke in the air.

Mom: Much better.

Julie: Mom, how did you get the headrest – I mean the life vest?

Mom: They tossed it to me. (Julie still does not know how she got it.) Why would they toss me a defective life vest? ‘Let’s give that ugly one the defective life vest!’

tragedy and romance

Julie walks toward Mom’s bedroom to bring her a hot pack, and hears Mom calling out in desperation:

Mom: Jack! ... Jack!

Julie enters the room, and Mom has her eyes closed and one hand extended in the air, as if reaching for someone.

Julie: Who's Jack?

Mom, oblivious: Jack! Jack! ... Come back, Jack!

Julie: Mom, who's Jack?

Mom, now addressing Julie: Jack! (said like Julie should know who she was talking about)

Julie: I don't know who Jack is.

Mom: The guy frozen in the water! He's falling down!

Julie: ...Oh. You mean Titanic?

Mom: (Pause).... Yes. (Longer pause and then said calmly) Do you think William and Kate will be happy? I hope so.

The Sorghums are coming! The Sorghums are coming!

Julie: Mom, I need the ice pack. Where is it?

Mom: I took care of it already. The Sorghums are coming.

Julie: OK... but where's the ice pack?

Mom: I tossed it off the tower. (Off the bed.)

Julie leaves the room to put the ice pack away, then returns.

Julie: Who are the Sorghums?

Mom: The witches. They're black and they fly in the sky. When you take away what they want, they fall out of the sky and can't fly anymore. When you hide what they want, they freeze in ice in the air. 

Julie: Why did you toss the ice pack?

Mom: Because they wanted it.

Julie: Why did they want the ice pack?

Mom: Because I had it. 

Julie: Right, but what did they want to do with it?

Mom: Nothing.

Julie: They just wanted it because you had it? Why?

Mom (in exasperated tone): Because they're just.... like that.

Julie goes to the kitchen to make Mom tea. After a short while, Mom shuffles into the kitchen, with about 1/3 of her hair loosely attached at the top of her head with a clip and the other 2/3 maniacally askew, and continues the conversation without preface.

Mom: You know, they're not interested in the hot pack at all. 

Julie: That's funny, you'd think it'd be the other way around, if they don't like being frozen.

Mom: No, because it's new technology to them. (She indicates the hot pack) They already know how to make these no problem.

Julie: Oh. Then that makes sense.

Later, Mom goes to bed and listens to Julie’s iPod, singing unintelligibly and slapping her belly – enthusiastically, and for a long time – to keep the beat.

beer bitch

Mom's home from the hospital now and mostly just taking acetaminophen, but she still comes out with some wackiness.  

Important things to know for this one: 
1) We've given Mom a bell to ring if she needs us and we're asleep or far away.
2) Libby is a cat.



It's about 2am and Leah hears the bell ring repeatedly.
Leah: What do you need, Mom?
(The bell rings again)
Leah (who just fell asleep and has to get up in 3 hours):  What do you need, Mom? 
Mom: I need to report a violation.
Leah: What?
Mom: I need to report a violation. Libby won't get me a beer.
Leah: What the crap are you talking about?
Mom: Libby isn't a good beer bitch.
Leah: Seriously? This is why you rang the bell? Julie, you need to get out here. Mom needs to report a violation and I need to get some sleep.
Mom: Libby isn't a good beer bitch. Maybe I need to pay her more.
Julie: Mom, we're going to take your bell away. I don't think you understand what the bell is for.

Mom gets settled and we go back to sleep. About ten minutes later the bell rings again.

Leah: What, Mom?
Mom: Goddamn Mississippi River. 

good help

Leah:  Mom, I missed your description of the cylindrical rooms.

Mom:  They’re different themes. It’s like a TV show where somebody goes to sleep and you wake up and you’re in a totally different place. I go to sleep, and I’m not really asleep because I’m totally aware. It’s like I drift off and I’m like, “Oh! Where am I now?” There’s the Christmas room…

Peanut:  The pot room.

Mom: Where’s that?

Peanut recounts Mom’s previous (not written down) description of the Pot Room.

Mom: Oh, the POTS! They didn’t know what to do with the pots because they were on the logs. When I think about it, I’m thinking, "These things are wood. They probably burn after a while. They probably shouldn’t be made out of wood."

Peanut: But the elves were just stupid because they kept putting them on the stove.

Mom: They didn’t understand. And the people were stupid, too, because they just kept buying them.

Peanut:  Oh, they were buying them?

Mom: Yeah, they were all gifts. It was like Macy’s on steroids.

A few minutes later, after thinking more about the elves - 

Mom:  It’s hard to get good help. Even at that level.

what propels flight

Mom: It’s weird. I always end up in these cylindrical rooms and they’re all different. Did it mean something in the real world? Was it a game or was it real? Papa and I were like two little kids flying around. He had this smirk like “I’ll get you” and I was like, “No, I’ll get you.” Then he went somewhere else and got a secret under three white pieces of armor. It’s not even like he beat me by a lot. The secret was just a smidge, a smidge, over what I had. Little shit. He’s very agile in the air! So am I. We were like two 6-year-olds playing kickball in the backyard.

A few minutes later, after we've been talking about flying in dreams - 

Mom: I’m always wondering what propels the flight. I think it’s farts. Because every time we move it’s like, “Riiip. Riiip.”