Don't Listen to Your Heart, Listen to Your Mama

I heard a commercial yesterday declaring, "listen to your heart." I don't even know what they were selling, but I can easily tell you my response: pffffft. My heart, over the years, has gotten me into some questionable places: cupcake shops when I'm trying to diet, the overdrafts of my checking account, a college guy's red Camaro when I was just a freshman in high school...oh yes, the heart will make some dubious decisions, but you know who is never wrong? Your mama. That's who you should be listening to, and I have finally lived long enough to have learned that lesson, even if it did take some trial and error along the way to figure that out.

"Susie, what is your favorite food?" 

"Macaroni and NO! No, no, no, no, no! This is for a pageant application, isn't it?!"

That is literally all it would take to set me off, screaming and crying and running from a room in what we in the South refer to as a hissy fit. For years, my mother tried to convince me to enter beauty pageants and for years, I not only refused, I refused with meltdowns, tantrums, and complete and total panic at the thought. When she finally convinced me to give my first pageant a try at age fifteen, I discovered I got beautiful dresses, trophies, and tiaras! Oh, how I loved those tiaras. People will tell you that you also gain things like poise, confidence, stage presence, public speaking skills and what not, but the best part is always a bedazzled crown, let's not kid ourselves, people. As someone who has always had a competitive nature, I loved it. What took me so long? Why didn't I listen to my mama and then we could have taken the world of toddler modeling by storm all those years ago? 

As it turns out, my mama was right. I didn't hate it.

Several years later, I had turned the page on my high school days and set off to college with a brand new chapter in life ahead of me. Imagine my mama's dismay when a high school boyfriend reappeared in the picture. She all but begged me to move on and not waste good time dating That Guy again--wasn't the first time more than enough wasted time? A good rule of thumb is to never go back to an old flame, period, much less a high school heartthrob once you are in college--college is for bigger, better opportunities in every way. My granddaddy used to emphasize, "Don't look back, you aren't going that way." 

 I didn't give much thought to how right my mom was about not dating That Guy again until a few months ago when, thanks to the fact that his Facebook page is public, I saw that he took his wife to Medieval Times for their wedding anniversary. Yes, that Medieval Times, the dinner attraction with the horses, sword fights, and lack of any dining utensils. After I fell off my couch laughing, I had a deeper appreciation for my mama, wanting to save me from a life of romantic outings which clearly consist of jousting tournaments and eating a chicken carcass with your bare hands. Listen to your mama, because your heart will go Medieval (Times) on you, y'all.

I can do Medieval Times as a family outing, just maybe not for a milestone anniversary.
I can be high maintenance that way.

Another long-told piece of mama advice I heard my whole life was to pretend you're pinching an aspirin between your knees when you're wearing a dress. This will help you avoid flashing your unmentionables to the world whilst give you the appearance of being a demure lady as you keep your legs closed together. Not listening to your mama on that one can be bone shatteringly catastrophic, as I discovered in October of 2016. My beloved Clemson Tigers have a football tradition that, after a victory, fans rush the field and gather on the 50-yard line to sing the alma mater and celebrate with the team. (Actually, they used to have that tradition. Now, after my incident and the ER visits of several others, we calmly wait to enter the field in an orderly fashion at a designated time so as to avoid bodily harm, but I digress). That particular evening, wearing an adorable orange and purple dress, I forgot to pinch the metaphorical aspirin between my knees, threw caution to the wind, and jumped over a retaining wall to access the field. My long-suffering but ever-chivalrous husband offered to help me and said my last words, pre-accident, were, "I can do it myself! OUCH!" And then I fell and broke my fibula and wound up in a bright orange cast for the rest of football season. Then, ironically, I could have used that aspirin for real. Mama was spot on about that one. 

Pinch that proverbial aspirin between your knees or you, too,
could get a cast in your favorite team colors.

It has been many years ago now that I was waiting in the checkout line at the Harris Teeter with a tub of Palmetto Cheese pimento cheese in my shopping basket. Another lady approached me and, noticing that cheese product in plain sight, asked me if it was any good. To which I candidly replied, "Ma'am, I haven't tried it yet, but my mama told me it is, and she's been right about everything else so I am just buying it without question." She nodded without another word and I watched her walk over to the case and put some Palmetto Cheese in her basket as well. That lady knows just like I know about listening to mama, and now she has the delicious pimento cheese to show for it. 

Don't run with scissors, sit up straight, mind your manners, don't act ugly. Beauty pageants are fun, that boy is bad news, act like a lady even when your team has won a doozy of a football game. Your heart can want what it wants, just listen to your mama. This is coming from a woman who calls hers about important matters such as: should I get these throw pillows in khaki, cream, or gray? How long is chicken good in the refrigerator? Do I have to take a hostess gift to a party I really don't want to go to? Even if I really, really don't want to go?

Listen to your mama, because you still can. Listen not only to her wisdom and her warnings, listen to it all. To the mundane and the tedious, when she tells you what she's making for dinner or who she talked to at church or all the details of her day...listen and be glad. You were once a kid telling her some very long stories yourself and Lord knows, she listened to you. This Mother's Day, if you are lucky enough to spend it with your mom, listen. I may not be a mama myself, but I'm pretty sure I'm right about this one.

With my mama, and most trusted advisor, last Mother's Day.
Long may she reign!