Mothers Say the Darndest Things

Eleven years ago, Phantom of the Opera came to our city for the first time. It was a HUGE deal. Tickets were hard to come by and everyone who was anyone or no one (like us) would witness the spectacle at some point. And the outfits! Sequins and gowns, people.

I was able to score some excellent tickets for my husband and I and my mom and her friend. I had to endure an excruciatingly long line and a local television celebrity (in the loosest sense–I think he must have some weird iron-clad contract or something) poking his face and microphone into everyone else’s face and yelling, “Hey! What’s the deal?” I was able to escape by simply giving my patented “look”. He quickly passed me by.

So. I was able to get tickets to the show and we wowed my mom with her present and we were amazed when the organ went up in the air RIGHT. OVER. OUR. HEADS. We were that close.

A good evening.

I had to tell you that part to show just how fun and exciting everything was and also, so I could tell you this next part.

The morning after The Phantom of the Opera, my mother was so thankful she insisted she take me out to breakfast. Who am I to turn down free food? So we went in search of a good breakfast. The problem was that I was fairly new to town and didn’t know where to go.

We stopped at a gas station because, really, if you want a good breakfast, stop and ask directions from a gas station attendant.

My mom came out of the gas station and got back in the car.

“He said there is a place called Billy Jin’s on the next street over,” she said.

“Billy Jin’s? Are you sure that’s what he said?” I asked.

“Yes. I asked him, “Billy Jin’s?’ and he nodded and said, “Billy Jin’s.’”

“OK. I’ve never heard of it, but I’ll see if I can find it.”

As we drove the mile to the next street and followed his directions, I had a revelation.

“Mom? Do you think maybe he was saying Village Inn instead of Billy Jin’s? Because there’s a Village Inn right there.”

“Oh.”

I wish I could say it’s gotten better, but that would be a big ol’ whopper.