What’s in a name
I’m watching ‘Deep Impact’ with my mother the other day, we were watching the Golden Globes and got bored with one of the interminable acceptance speech “Gosh, I started out on a farm in South Africa…” Click.
Ooh, earth about to be crushed? Leave it there!
Anyway, my mom had never seen it before, so I’m explaining the premise and catching her up in the plot, when suddenly she points to the screen and says isn’t that Tea Leoni?
What? Yes. What the hell?
This is the woman that has spent more than 20 years calling her only child “girl” as in “come here… ummm, girl.”
Or “you know who I mean” as in “come here, leticia, alicia, teresa… Dammit you know who I mean. Come here.”
At first, she blamed my grandmother.
“Well, I’m my mother’s daughter” (I think she forgot grandma’s name.)
Then, I would cooly point out that grandma had seven kids, she had one.
“Well, then you know exactly who I’m talking to, so quit complaining.”
Game, set, match.
Mind you, when she’s pissed off or I’m in trouble, totally different story.
I’ve got a first, a last and two middle names.
But Tea Leoni? She’s good to go on that one at a moment’s notice.
My mom doesn’t even remember Jennifer Lopez or Brad Pitt!