She is a fast machine, she keeps her motor clean

We were in the car the other day and Snoop Dogg's Gin and Juice came on.

It's the kind of song that sticks with you. And so a bit later, when I was singing under my breath and off-tune, "Laid back with my mind on my money and my money on my mind. . ."

Nick said, "Hey, let's play this at your parents house a lot and see if we can get Betty singing it."

Because he knows the AC/DC story. And he knows my mom, which makes it all the better. But anyone who reads LG knows I tell Betty stories all the time and that I am completely crazy about my mom.

She's one of my closest, closest friends. When nobody else in the room knows what I'm talking about, she will. And similarly, I speak Betty.

If I'm looking for support, she's a natural person to call. For even the most ridiculous thing.

Nick and I have been in a house temperature negotiation. If I could, I'd keep it at 78 all summer. He'd like it at 72, at which point I'm wearing fleece - no exaggeration.

So he suggested trying 74 degrees. Which means we've taken the comforter off the bed. His replacement suggestion was a wool blanket, but I'm allergic. And he was all, "You'll be fine till we get another blanket."

So I called Betty, partly to ask where she got this super soft synthetic blanket she gave me (but alas, fits my bed, not Nick's) and partly to tell on him.

I said, "Mama, Nick is trying to make me sleep with a wool blanket!"

"Noooo!"

She says this with exactly the horrified tone I am looking for. Like, the tone you might use in response to something like, "Nick tries to chew off my toes while I'm sleeping!"

"Tell him he can't do that!"

I turn to Nick. "Betty is appalled by your behavior."

So there.

For the longest time I took all these extraordinary abilities that she has for granted.

She can make just about anything. She can draw a pattern on paper and then sew the garment. Anyone who has ever tried to sew, much less create a pattern, or even just watched Project Runway, knows that this is completely phenomenal.

When we lived in Bangladesh Betty got really into dyeing and batik, and so of course I got to do batik as well. Looking back, the batik phase coincided with my nipple fascination faze. So everyone, both men and women, everyone I drew - or in this case waxed and dyed for all eternity, because cloth lasts shockingly forever - had nipples. Lots of beach scenes. Lots of nipples.

I'll have to find them and post them. They are ridiculous.

Anyway, I always took for granted that my mom had all these creative ideas and skills. And now I realize how exceptional they are.

If I have a kid, I hope I'm half as cool a mom as Betty.

I love you, mama. Happy Mother's Day!