Wednesday, September 24, 9:30 pm.
Me: If I blogged about wanting to pole dance would that freak you out?
Mama: LEIGH ANNE!
Me: I don't mean in public, I mean at home...in private...you know, for exercise. And for Scott.
It's something I've always wanted to try, and a lot of my friends have done it.
Mama: I can't believe you even asked me this. But I don't care if you want to do it in public, that's your business. Did I tell you where our seats are on the plane to Vegas? They're in the very back, nowhere near y'all. Your brother is going to die...
Me: Wait! Mama, I am NOT going to pole dance in public. Have you lost your mind? Could you see me getting up on a pole?
Mama: That's your business I guess. I wouldn't do it.
Me: Well thank God for that! I've heard it's really good exercise, but hard to learn, and fun once you're decent at it.
Mama: Where would you put the pole? In the basement or in the exercise room?
Me: Mama, you are not listening to me. I'm not really going to pole dance...it's just a pipe dream. You know, after I lose more weight...
Mama: What does Scott think about this? Does he know you're wanting a pole in the house?
Me: Are you even hearing me? You are not getting the point--it's just a fantasy--I don't think I'll ever do it. I don't know. Maybe I will. One day.
Mama: I'm watching America's Got Talent. It's getting to the end and most of these people are pretty boring, so I don't even know why I'm watching...
This is how much she cares, y'all. Seriously. She raised me to be a southern lady, to have decency and decorum. I still say "ma'am," and "sir," as do my daughters. I don't leave the house without wearing lipstick. My thank yous are handwritten, on monogrammed stationery. And I wouldn't dream of wearing anything remotely formfitting without first donning the Spanx. Please allow me to quote my beloved Steel Magnolias:
Truvy: I haven't left the house without Lycra on these thighs since I was fourteen!
Clairee: You were brought up right.
Here I am thinking, "Mama will whip me if I go near the words 'pole' and 'dance.'" But darn if she doesn't already have me on some poorly-lit stage in a smoky club, writhing to Motley Crue or Poison, swinging in a G-string while drunk buffoons leer and cheer me on.
I'm thinking maybe she just wants a share of my tips.And for the record...I would love to try pole dancing...with a group of girls, in a private setting. After years of lessons maybe I'd be decent enough to shimmy and swirl in a hot pink leather catsuit. I already have my song picked out:
"Supermassive Black Hole," by Muse. It's my pole song. Don't go stealing it from me.
Mama, you'll get the first performance. I promise.