My mom is having somewhat-emergency gallbladder surgery today. She didn’t ask me to come down for it, probably because she knows I’m going to get pissed at my dad for being a man-child.
I called their cell phone this afternoon. My dad answered.
“How’d the surgery go?”
“Oh, they haven’t taken her in yet. Probably in the next hour or so.”
“How’s mom doing though? Is she okay?”
“Well, I keep making her laugh. Trying to get her to laugh the gallstones out so she doesn’t have to have surgery. But the laughing hurts her.”
“Is she going to keep the gallstones, like grandma did when she had them out?”
“Are you going to keep the gallstones? . . .She says no, unless you want them.”
“What would I do with them? Sell them on the internet? ‘Buy my mom’s gallstones. REEEAL CHEAP.’ ?”
“They’re the family jewels. We can make them into a necklace for you.”
“Gross, Dad.”
“Well, I’m off. Gotta go Christmas shopping.”
“Um . . . ok. Is Laura stopping by?”
“Yeah, I think she’s going to be here soon.”
WTF, Dad. “My wife’s going in for surgery, so I’m leaving her alone to go shopping.” I knew I should have driven down.
The scary thing is, there probably are people out there who would love to buy your mum’s gallstones.