Hard of Hearing: Chapter 3

Part 1 - 

On a sunny Saturday afternoon, my brother is busily cooking up a roasted vegetable dish. I take a plate, he takes one for himself, and then he opens the back door, to offer a plate up to Klez-Mom, who is busily working away in the garden.

"Mom, I've got some veggies for you!"

Klez-Mom,
"It's the phone for me?"

Brother,
"No, veggies!"

Klez-Mom,
"Who is it?"

Brother,
"I made veggies, and I have some for you."

Klez-Mom,
"Ok!"

A minute passes, and Klez-Mom enters the house, sweaty and covered in soil from the garden.
She hurriedly walks past us.

Klez-Mom,
"So? Where's the phone?"

Part 2 -

In the car with Dad and Klez-Mom, we pull into a gas station. The counter is visible, as is the A&W, and the Tim Hortons in the back.

Dad, referring to seating not usually found in such gas stations,
"Look - they've got seats."

Klez-Mom,
"They've got what?"

Klez-Mom, looks up, scans the staff composed of two South-East Asian men, responds
"Oh, ya, they've got Sikhs."

Part 3 - 

Sitting on the couch with my sister and Klez-Mom, we're watching a new cooking show. Klez-Mom takes a bite out of a cookie.

My sister, referring to the TV show,
"What's this called again?"

Klez-Mom, taking a bite,
"Shortbread."

A Klez-Mom Classic

My favourite Klez-Mom tale is one you may have heard, if you've been lucky enough to hear the tales of Klez-Mom, before she had a spot to shine.

A few of my girlfriends were over one afternoon, sitting on the couch in the living room, 5 meters away from Klez-Mom. Klez-Mom was working at her desk, lost in a cyber-world, gaze fixed on what should have been a client's report (but was more likely a Daily Jigsaw Puzzle).

Turning to my friends,
"Watch this."

"Mom, hey Mom. Mom. Momma. Mommy. Lyn. Mom. Mom. Mom. Woman. Lady. MOM? MOM! MOOOOOM!"
Blankness. Klez-Mom's eyes glued to the monitor, she barely flinches at the various renditions of her name. Her ears seemingly sealed shut, Klez-Mom taps away at her keyboard, one hand and one finger at a time.

Turning back to my friends,
"The only time she hears anything is when it has something to do with Jews, and boyfriends, and Jewish babies."

My friend,
"What?! You have a Jewish boyfriend?!?!"

Bam! Awakened from a trance, right on cue, Klez-Mom snaps away from her computer, turns her head and shrieks,
"HuH? Who has a Jewish boyfriend?!"

It never fails.

Hard of Hearing: Chapter 2

Part 1:

Dad suggests going to see a movie. I suggest 'Inception'

Klez-Mom,
"What movie are we gonna see?"

Dad,
"It's a new film."

Klez-Mom,

"A Jew film? What's it called?"

Dad, sarcastically,
"It's called 'Concern'"

Klez-Mom,
"What?! 'Concern'? What kinda movie is that?"

Me,
"No, it's called 'Inception'"

Klez-Mom,
"Oh ya, I've seen that one."

Me,
"You've seen 'Inception'?"

Klez-Mom,
"No."

Part 2:

"What's 'The Jacket'"?

Klez-Mom, matter-of-factly,
"It's about Michael Jackson."

"Today, I met a horse and a donkey!"

Camera Countdown. I am feeling utterly paralyzed by my lack of a camera to better capture the essence of Klez-Mom, but my credit card points have just gone towards the purchase...let's give it 2 weeks. Woo-pee!

Hard of Hearing: Chapter 1

Most of the frustrations of living at home involve Klez-Mom and her hearing capacities, or lack thereof. Somehow, a sentence about getting to work is obtusely translated into a request for a turkey dinner. Stories won't do justice to the frequency of these Hard-of-Hearing (HOH) occurrences, but at least I can try.

----------------------------------------------

Part 1

My sister, about working with kids,
"The kids were playing with wood clay today at school. It smelled weird"

Dad responds,
"What did it smell like?"

"Like wood chips"

Klez-Mom, literally a foot away from my sister and oblivious,
"WHAT?! Who smells like horse shit?"
Confused restaurant patron stares

-----

Part 2

After breakfast, dad stands up
"Time to get dressed!"

Klez-Mom whips around
"I already SAID I was taking him to the vet!"

Eyeball roll.
Klez-Mom pauses.
"Are we talking about the cat?"

-----

Part 3

My sister, as she heads out the door, jokingly,
"Bye whores!"

Klez-Mom turns to me and dad.
"Real nice, she says bye to the cats, and not to us"

Wasp Season

Another day, another dinner.

Tonight we had my other brother over with his long-time girlfriend who, as nice as she is, is not a Nice Jewish Girl.


Summer's warm evenings have been leading to family dinners and barbecues on the back porch. The result is an open invitation to nature's critters to take part in our meal.

A wasp flies around dad's plate.
Dad gets up to go inside for a napkin. Dad turns to Klez-Mom
"Don't let the wasp take my food"

Klez-Mom glances over at my brother's girlfriend.
Akwardness ensues.

Summer of '69

Jewish mommas. If you've got one, you'll understand what I'm about to say next: Marry a Jew, and your foot is 99% of the way into heaven's door. So is theirs for having birthed you, suckled you, and shaped you into a fine Jew-seeking Jew.

Unfortunately for Klez-Mom, her kids are more of the think-outside-the-box-follow-your-heart Jews than the god-fearing-heaven-seeking type. But she had a lucky break recently; it seemed her eldest Klez-kid was nearing 30, starting to feel the heat from Klez-Mom and her senior partner (Bubby), and seeking, perhaps, a Nice Jewish Girl.

Sunday arrived with a ray of sunshine; my brother decided to bring over his new Jewish lady-friend, and Klez-Mom's smile was big enough to rip her cheeks open. Some light conversation ensued, complete with a friendly pass-around of a copy of Heeb Magazine. Klez-Mom opened the pages to the free, first-edition center-fold calendar, loaded with half naked, shiny bronzed Jewish girls.

Klez-Mom cauks head.

"Girls of '69? What year is this calendar from?!"
*stifled chuckles*

KM glances at me.
"What are you laughing at?"
KM turns back to Heeb

"Oh, it's from 2008."


Welcome to Klez-Mom. Stay tuned for a mind-blowing array of stories, photos and video clips of the big lady. Cross your fingers for some good, quality, ab-wrenching content. Bye my babies!