Aphorisms: Mom's tales

For my mother the big issue, if I broke a leg, was that my father would have gotten angry...

"Mom, I broke a tooth" - "can't you wait a couple of months to get it fixed? we are left with just 20k$ for the day to day expenses"

-"So, son, how was your session with your therapist?"
- "Mom, you shouldn't even ask th..."
-"So, has that woman [the help psychologist] finally told you to leave your girlfriend?"

When I am called "Hijo de puta", I am saddened. I have known many actual whores and, for the most part, these humble and honest workers did nothing to warrant such a grievous insult.

My mother used to complain about me being born, what a big mistake I was. How life would have been better had she remained a spinster, cutting dresses and tending to the garden. I wholeheartedly agree.

My mother used to kill my male cats, for any of a host of invented reasons. The truth, she can't kill me, so when she is pissed with me she kills the only philandering male that she can. Till my current cat... he's a neutered Maine Coon, trained to stay inside the flat at all costs.
Her ideal of a son.

Some mothers fret about their sons getting a fiancée. They fear their sons may meet some woman, as exploitative of their kids as they where of their own husbands. They are wise - after all, they have grown their kids so that they could be easily exploitable.

My father used to say that friends come at your home, to scam you off work and fuck your wife.
I used to think tat he had a bleak vision of life, till I knew my mother better.

- "I'd rather go gay, than be just another idiot that marries a copy of his mother"
- "There is always something of your mother, in any woman you meet"
- "Joe, I know there is something sexual in any friendship between males, but you are really pushing the envelope, here."

I dislike cunt-munchers as any other white trash male does. Each of them is one to two vaginas less for us to fuck. Yet, I rather see lesbians marry each other and be happy, than for them to become parodies of heterosexual women like my mom.

I am into SM because of my mother control-freak issues, says my shrink. I hate them buggers when they are so right on the mark.

My father was the only source of maternal love in my family.

My father was always angry, from Saturday 12:00am to Monday 07:00 am. When he died, and left me stuck with mom,  I understood why

"Mamma, ce n'è una sola. Per fortuna" ("Mom, you only have one. Thanks God!" not mine, but I approve)

Mom has grown way softer, now that she finally has dementia.

When they see me down, my cats come and pet me till they cheer me up. Momma seemingly can't even see if I am up or down, so she simply asks whatever passes through her mind anyway. 

I never heard my mother approve of anything or anyone - always democratic, she has acid words for everybody and all, starting with her sons.

In case of doubts, my mother always assumed the worst and everything to be my fault - yes, I was her preferred son.

I landed on the page on Fred Rogers, again - a fay of crying ensued, my eyes so red that I have trouble seeing, read or drawing. My mommy finally catches on, realizing that I am feeling quite down... with a hint of glee? 

None of the above is, actually, a joke.