If You Can't Hang... Get the Hell Out

"Ma! I'm home!" I called into my house. I knew my mom was home, I could smell the lasagna, the second I pulled open the door. It was only my mother and I. it wasn't like there was anyone else there to cook.

"Kitchen!" she called back.

I walked in and sat down at the counter. "What up?" I asked, pulling the naked noodle from the strainer and biting a chunk off of it.

"Why do you always ask that?"

"That's my hello."

"But why?"

I rolled my eyes at her questioning.

"Can't you just accept my hello?"

"I guess." She pulled the lasagna pan out of the oven.

"So I have some news," she said.

"What? We moving to Alaska and becoming mountain men?"

"No. You remember your aunt Mary?"

"No." I barely remembered any of her family. I'd met them all, but only once or twice and that was a long time ago.

"She's my younger sister. Remember she has three kids?"

"Nothing, but whatever. Why are you telling me this?"

"You know old man Jeb's house?"

"Yeah, he finally up and croak?" I asked. Jeb was a bitter old man, who cussed people out when they walked past.

"No, and quit talking like that. he's moving though."

"Awesome!" I cheered.

"You are such an asshole."

"Yes Mother, but I'm an asshole you gave birth to, so you're stuck with me."

She rolled her eyes. "Back to the point. Mary's husband walked out on them, so they're going to come up and move into Jeb's house."

"And?"

"Well don't you have an questions or anything?"

"No. When do they come? When do I get to meet them? What the hell are you asking me to do?"

"Clean the house. They're coming in a few days."

"Then I've got a few days to clean. Now that we've got that messed sorted out, cut me some of that lasagna woman! I'm hungry!"