Furious Mom!

They Always Come Back Home

Y’all may recall, a few weeks ago I wrote the article The Hamptons Empty Nesters.

My girlfriends, don’t ya know it that as soon as I dumped (oops! ‘dropped off’),the last kid at the Hampton Jitney bus stop, I partied like it was 1999! You betcha baby!

Did I hear a Pin Drop?

Our home was quiet. I heard the chorus of birds chirping the song ‘hallelujah empty house’, and the soothing sounds of the ocean waves breaking at the shore.

I achieved Nirvana.

Girlfriends, I celebrated with a Baccarat Crystal cocktail glass filled with perfectly chilled Tito’s vodka. I tossed in an olive for good measure.

Wouldn’t ya know my freedom lasted for a nano-second. I took one sip of my celebratory cocktail, and the party was over. I prophesized this would happen!!! Shiat!


As soon as son #1 arrived at his apartment, we got a phone call. There was an invasion of cockroaches.

Query: When would the apartment building ever conclude the year long construction project? Keep in mind, this is the never ending project that literally never ends. And paleeze…don’t give me that line of shiat, “Oh, so sorry, but COVID delayed the project excuse”.

I do not know what the construction workers did, but they must have awoken every roach that lived on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Really.

And then, the cock-a-roaches piled into their roach mobile and decided to take a road trip to my son’s apartment. All jokin’ aside, I am confident the entire building was invaded by roaches…


Oy vey. Really? Bug, schmug. Whateva! Don’t Come Home!

I would do anything to retain my newly minted title ‘Empty Nester’.

Gay to the Rescue

I schlepped to NYC to investigate. I entered the apartment in body armor; well, not quite. I brought boric acid, a tried and true remedy to snuff out those pesky critters.

As the big Macha, (in Yiddish that means the ‘Head Honcho’), I surveyed the situation. We be talkin’ determined cock-a-roaches. They must have been a trainin’ for this invasion. Straight outta’ a horror flick.

It was a war zone in that apartment. I found carcasses of cockroaches; it was clear they were putting up a hell of a battle but were losing the war.

I stayed for the night. I woke up early, to make the trek back to the Hamptons.

Let’s set the scene: Good news, the coast was clear! Not a roach in sight!

I hopped into the shower. Thinking the roach problem was under control, I was totally relaxed.

I go for the shampoo… and just as I picked up that bottle…the world ended. Visualize this: A sly and cunning cock-a-roach was hiding behind the shampoo, just waiting to terrorize me.

Kudos to that crafty bastard, what a great war time tactic.

It was at that moment I entered the twilight zone and had an out of body experience. That mutha fucka stared at me with those eyes. And this was not cock-a-roach, this was a water bug, which can be huge. We be talking almost 6 inches long or bigger? Could have been a foot long. But who knows, I was traumatized.

I was shrieking like a lunatic in a straight jacket who was locked away in an insane asylum.

It’s amazing I did not pull the shower door off the hinges while fleeing. I attribute my super-human core strength to Tracy Anderson.

I know what you are thinking…what happened to the bug?

You betcha baby! No match for Gay! I snuffed that bug out with the bottle of shampoo, and then ran out of the shower. Sistahs, I can assure you there was no need for the police.

My message to the all the bugs that entered the apartment: this will be your fate. And then I flushed that mutha dead roach down the toilet and gave the middle finger farewell salute.

Totally grossed out, my son and I retreated to the Hamptons.

Cockroaches and Family

You betcha… family, friends, they be just like those cockroaches.

I know. I am such a biatch! Perhaps ‘bunnies’ be a softer word? Cockroaches sounds too nasty.

You know it my fellow mamas! One person comes to the house and then they start to multiply.

Exactly. Now I have a marching band!

The Snow Hotel is Accepting No Mo’ Reservations!

My step-kids and grandkids planned to visit for a few ‘fun days in the Hamptons’, along with my sistah Lori, my 15 year-old niece, and two of her girlfriends.

What’s a mama to do? I went food shopping and cancelled all scheduled dinner reservations.

Oh yes… I also pumped up the rainbow unicorn and pink swan floats, set up the ping-pong table, badminton, fluffed up the pillows, and put the Advil on the kitchen counter.

But wait, my old mama and step-dad Bob had to visit too. Of course, they did. Do ya think my mama would miss out on the ‘fun’ we were having in the Hamptons?

Not only did she want to come for dinner, but she also wanted to sleepover and gab with the teenagers. I said, “mama, there are too many people here, so you can’t sleep over”.

My mama replied: “Gay, I am not anyone, I am yo’ mama”. I curtly replied, “Whatever biatch! You can only come for the day”. Well, with all due respect to my mama, I certainly did not call her a biatch to her face. Definitely behind her back. Just kiddin’ girlfriends.

And yes, sistah Lori thanked me that mama did not sleepover. We just would not go down that path of mama gossipin’ up a storm with the teenagers.

What About Bob?

Bob was incredulously thoughtful. He brought a ‘toy’ for the girls. So sweet. Oh yes, a jewelry design kit for girls ages 6+. Sistahs, I kid you not. He thought it was a wonderful way for the girls to play, make earrings and hair pins. Can you imagine? Sexist pig!

My Foreseeable Future

My fellow mamas… I must accept my fate. When your home is akin to a 5-star hotel, and everyone’s needs are addressed, who I be kiddin’?

In fact, when we get back to LA, we will be living with son #2 and adopted son #3. You know it honey! They gave me the line, “We will be home just for a few months.. we just be college grads lookin’ for an apartment”.

Bless yo’ heart. Mama ain’t no fool! I know, I will bring the jewelry design kit to LA so the boys can make necklaces when they are not looking for an apartment.

They will never leave…To be continued.

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