them. Please. please. Don't say sorry. Please don't say sorry again.
MA
Sorry.
ME
I just said don't say sorry. What are you sorry for? What could you possibly be sorry for? I swear, if you say sorry one more time, my head is going to implode.
MA
Sorry.
ME
(suddenly tinged with melancholy)
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled. Why are you sorry? Don't say sorry.
MA
Sorry.
***
Just to get things straight: Me is sixteen years old. I am twenty-two. I have been playing Me for as long as I can remember. In that time, three boys have played My Brother and eight women have played My Mother.
I admit, My Mother is undoubtedly the hardest role on Family. When casting each new My Mother, they have, I think, tried to pick a woman age-appropriate relative to Me and My Brother. The first one I barely remember, except that her skin was quite warm. The fifth My Mother was also very good. She taught Me to tie Me's shoes.
The most recent one, I miss her. She had started slower than any of them, during the Puberty Season. But she worked at it. She was always working at it. The technical aspects: Martyr Complex, Unbreakable Matriarch, Weight of the World. During her run, every show had a direction. Every gesture had a purpose.
Her last year was her best. That was the season Me finished high school a year early. My Father was written out of the show, the excuse being something about infidelity. The guy just wanted out of his contract. He'd been there for too long and didn't like where his character was going: the show's anchor, a stable presence, a jocular, asexual, Harmless Bearded Sitcom Dad.
That last season was the best in the history of the program. Me and My Mother averaged nearly fourteen Tender Interactions per week. Ratings for Family were at an all-time high. My Mother cried Pitifully almost every episode. She had Large Problems. It was beautiful to watch her Suffer. A true professional.
***
This new woman, however, is not a professional. I realize that following her predecessor would be tough for anyone. I didn't expect it to go on forever. I'm realistic. If anything, I'm realistic. But this new woman. She's out of left field. She's a complete stranger. I suspect she has never played a Mother before in her life. For one thing, there is the smell. And, as I mentioned, she does not wear the fat suit very well.
Her first show is a disaster.
Family is in the middle of a six-show arc: Me gets a Love Interest, Me loses the Love Interest, Me learns a Lesson About Loss.
The scene we're shooting that day is just about the easiest scene she could ask for. Me is expecting a call from the Love Interest and goes looking for the cordless phone. Me enters My Mother's bedroom to get the phone.
Episode 4,572,389
â HEY, MA, HAVE YOU SEEN THE CORDLESS?
FADE IN!
â INT. MY MOTHER'S BEDROOMâEARLY MORNING
ME
Hey, Ma, have you seen the cordless?
My Mother is lying there, dressed to go to the supermarket, on top of the covers.
MA
I think you left it on the kitchen counter.
ME
Thanks.
The scene should have ended there. The previous woman would have ended it there. But the new woman, she has ideas of her own.
MA
(openly needy)
Can you stay in the room?
"What are you doing?" I whisper.
MA
I don't want to go to the supermarket. I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to talk to you.
None of this, of course, is in the script. I try to explain.
"There's no Interaction," I say. I vigorously mime holding a script. I try pointing to an invisible page and shaking my head.
She takes this to mean I am offering a Tender Embrace. This is bad. She comes toward me in her ill-fitting fat suit, tears already welling up and smudging her makeup. Her face is a mess. I definitely don't want to have a Tender Embrace, when it isn't in the script, when it is early in the morning and her breath is certain to be odd-smelling, when I barely know this new woman.
It goes without saying a Tender Embrace in the middle of "Have You
MA
Sorry.
ME
I just said don't say sorry. What are you sorry for? What could you possibly be sorry for? I swear, if you say sorry one more time, my head is going to implode.
MA
Sorry.
ME
(suddenly tinged with melancholy)
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled. Why are you sorry? Don't say sorry.
MA
Sorry.
***
Just to get things straight: Me is sixteen years old. I am twenty-two. I have been playing Me for as long as I can remember. In that time, three boys have played My Brother and eight women have played My Mother.
I admit, My Mother is undoubtedly the hardest role on Family. When casting each new My Mother, they have, I think, tried to pick a woman age-appropriate relative to Me and My Brother. The first one I barely remember, except that her skin was quite warm. The fifth My Mother was also very good. She taught Me to tie Me's shoes.
The most recent one, I miss her. She had started slower than any of them, during the Puberty Season. But she worked at it. She was always working at it. The technical aspects: Martyr Complex, Unbreakable Matriarch, Weight of the World. During her run, every show had a direction. Every gesture had a purpose.
Her last year was her best. That was the season Me finished high school a year early. My Father was written out of the show, the excuse being something about infidelity. The guy just wanted out of his contract. He'd been there for too long and didn't like where his character was going: the show's anchor, a stable presence, a jocular, asexual, Harmless Bearded Sitcom Dad.
That last season was the best in the history of the program. Me and My Mother averaged nearly fourteen Tender Interactions per week. Ratings for Family were at an all-time high. My Mother cried Pitifully almost every episode. She had Large Problems. It was beautiful to watch her Suffer. A true professional.
***
This new woman, however, is not a professional. I realize that following her predecessor would be tough for anyone. I didn't expect it to go on forever. I'm realistic. If anything, I'm realistic. But this new woman. She's out of left field. She's a complete stranger. I suspect she has never played a Mother before in her life. For one thing, there is the smell. And, as I mentioned, she does not wear the fat suit very well.
Her first show is a disaster.
Family is in the middle of a six-show arc: Me gets a Love Interest, Me loses the Love Interest, Me learns a Lesson About Loss.
The scene we're shooting that day is just about the easiest scene she could ask for. Me is expecting a call from the Love Interest and goes looking for the cordless phone. Me enters My Mother's bedroom to get the phone.
Episode 4,572,389
â HEY, MA, HAVE YOU SEEN THE CORDLESS?
FADE IN!
â INT. MY MOTHER'S BEDROOMâEARLY MORNING
ME
Hey, Ma, have you seen the cordless?
My Mother is lying there, dressed to go to the supermarket, on top of the covers.
MA
I think you left it on the kitchen counter.
ME
Thanks.
The scene should have ended there. The previous woman would have ended it there. But the new woman, she has ideas of her own.
MA
(openly needy)
Can you stay in the room?
"What are you doing?" I whisper.
MA
I don't want to go to the supermarket. I don't want to go anywhere. I just want to talk to you.
None of this, of course, is in the script. I try to explain.
"There's no Interaction," I say. I vigorously mime holding a script. I try pointing to an invisible page and shaking my head.
She takes this to mean I am offering a Tender Embrace. This is bad. She comes toward me in her ill-fitting fat suit, tears already welling up and smudging her makeup. Her face is a mess. I definitely don't want to have a Tender Embrace, when it isn't in the script, when it is early in the morning and her breath is certain to be odd-smelling, when I barely know this new woman.
It goes without saying a Tender Embrace in the middle of "Have You
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