My mother loves talking. When she starts talking, nobody can stop her. It’s just impossible. It doesn’t matter how many times she’s already told me something, as soon as she mentions it again she thinks it has to be explained as if it’s never mentioned before. 

Every Friday I give her a call. After a full work week and a four-hour commute each day, I’m extremely tired. I’m a computer programmer at a huge brokerage firm that’s located at the craziest place of the craziest city in the world, right near the NYSE. I’m so tired at the end of the week that I automatically relate to everything and everyone as if they were of different programs and subroutines, including my mom.

Like any programming application, my conversations with my mother seem to follow a set programming logic path. My mother’s speeches sound like programs that receive parameters and execute or link to subroutines all starting from the beginning every time they are activated.

Unlike in computer programming there is no test-region, where I can fix or test something. However, there is no need of a test region because my mother’s programs, subroutines, and procedures always run without any interruptions, or abnormal ends. I can attempt to enter certain  commands into my mother’s programs, but unfortunately, not all of them work correctly. For example STOP-RUN, CANCEL, and DELETE statements always fail. UPDATE and INSERT statements run with terrible response time, sometimes having hardware overload problems, but they never cause fatal errors or damage, and often I have to submit them several times to succeed. I always cautiously execute the TERMINATE command statement, making sure that the hardware is in stable condition and all programs ended successfully, otherwise I can be in big trouble when reaching my mom again.

I know my mom’s subroutines so well that I can repeat them word for word without mistake.  

Even though I’m tired, I call my mother on Friday night anyway. It’s Saturday morning in Israel so she doesn’t have to rush off to work, and I can “listen” to her endless speeches all night without any interruptions. My children are busy chatting on the Internet with their friends until four in the morning. My husband is sleeping and not annoying me that this conversation is taking so much of “his” time and “his” money and I’m not in a rush because tomorrow starts my  weekend. The telephone rings, waking my mother at seven in the beautiful morning in Israel.

She knows it’s me and always gladly picks up the phone.  

“Good morning, mom!” I always try to sound as happy as possible so she can start off her Saturday in a good mood, as I look at the dark, depressing night through my window.  Then I wait while my mom realizes that it’s morning and she has to answer my question…

 “Hi, baby.” She begins as if in slow motion, which usually lasts for just a couple of seconds. I hear her movements. She gets up from bed, finds her slippers, and heads to the bathroom.

“How are you, Mom?” I hear the sound of the toilet being flashed, and she goes back to her bed. Then she fights her dog Sam, who uses her absence to jump on her warm and comfortable bed that has the lovely smell of his beloved master. 

 “What can I tell you? Nothing… Nothing at all... I really don’t know what to tell you… Everything is fine.” She is still searching for a start button to activate her operating system. “You better tell me how you are. How are the children? How do you feel? ”

“There is no news, mama. I feel ok. The children are in school. I’m working as usual at…” At that moment her operating system is activated and one of the main WORK program starts before I’m able to finish my sentence. 

 “Now I remember what I wanted to tell you,” my mom interrupts me, and then I can relax. I get my manicure set and start to work on my nails, listening to my mom, and uttering “M-h-m” or “U-u” or “Sure”… once in a while.   

“I went to work yesterday…”

WORK is a huge program that has a lot of parameters and variables, loops and validations. It calls a lot of subprograms and procedures, small and large and sometimes lasts for so long that I have enough time –

To finish my nails,

To check the last mail,

To write some checks,

To have a small snack,

To check my son’s homework…

It’s true; it’s not a joke.

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