I’m short on material today, so I’m just going to use my mother as fodder.

Sorry, ma.

Went to traffic court today to plead down a 58 in a 30, just down the street from my house. I should have known better, since the cop likes to hide right next to the Chinese restaurant.

The judge says, “so you’re pleading 30 in a 35.”

He’s old. Confused?

“Sure. Sounds good to me.”

“Oh wait, i made a mistake. But just last week we pulled over a lady for going 24 in a 65 on the highway.”

“Was it my mother?” I asked.

“You’re funny.”

“Thank you. Can I pay you $100 instead of $130?”

“No.”

As usual, I call my mother in the morning to check in – make sure she made it through the night without pressing the Life Alert button. I fill her in on my funny court story.

She laughs. Then gags. She can’t laugh without bringing on a gag attack. Something with her esophagus or just doing two things at the same time. Like laughing AND breathing.

We continue to talk minutiae and I tell her I’m home now and going upstairs.

“Ok, bye,” she says.

“Bye, ma.”

“So what else is going on?”

Oy vey.