What Was My Mother Thinking?
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My mother needs help. At least that’s what the e-mail I received from her this morning stated.
Apparently she’s taken a last minute trip to Nigeria to help a program called “Empowering Youth to Fight Racism, HIV/AIDS, and Poverty.”
Nigeria! Wow! My agoraphobic mother who has a fear of black people, little kids with colds, and hasn’t even visited me in California because she’s too afraid of being trapped on a plane with people that she doesn’t know has now run off to Nigeria!
And now she’s in trouble. My poor, poor suburbia mother is stuck in Africa. What was she thinking? She gets lost in parking lots, can’t eat in a restaurant because she’s allergic to every type of food except chicken and water and she recently told me that she thinks she’s allergic to water.
“I’m stranded in Nigeria” she writes, “I forgot my little bag in the Taxi where my money, passport, documents and other valuable things were kept on my way to the hotel am staying; I am facing a hard time here because I have no money on me. I am now owning a hotel bill of $950 and they want me to pay the bill soon else they will have to seize my bag and hand me over to the Hotel Management, I need help from you urgently back home.”
I have to help her. She “owns” a hotel bill.
My phone rings. It’s my mother. She’s at home in Connecticut someone stole her e-mail and used it for spam. She’s throwing out the computer I bought her. Canceling her credit cards. Nothing is safe. I should do the same, she says.
We’ve been compromised.
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