Dear Awesome Advice Central,
I’m a woman of a certain age—you know, above 29 but below 100—and my grown children are plotting against me.
You see, for many years, I’ve had a rather unusual hobby: I collect wine and beer bottles. Not full ones, you understand, but the empties. I wash them out, then store them on specially constructed racks in my basement. I reckon I’ve got at least 500,000 bottles down there now, all neatly stacked and catalogued. Actually, there’s no space down there any longer, so I’ve started filling the empty rooms in my house. It smells a bit like a brewery in here, but I don’t mind. I’m on a mission. I’ve even enlisted the help of my local university—several of their frat houses now send me all their empties, which I really appreciate.
My goal, you see, is to eventually collect enough bottles to build a glass house. This isn’t as crazy as it sounds: the bottles are laid on their sides, held in place by concrete. I just love the idea that one day, I’ll have my own house of glass…it’ll be unbelievably beautiful, and it’ll be energy-efficient, too!
Anyway, my meddling children are the only fly in the proverbial ointment. Last week, they discovered that I can no longer get into the spare bedroom, as it’s crammed to the brim with bottles. Instead of applauding my ingenuity, they actually staged an intervention!
They are quite certain I’m a raging alcoholic, you see. So they gathered together as many of my friends as they could, and all of them read me letters about what my alleged “alcoholism” was doing to the family. It was quite heartbreaking, really…if it were even remotely true. Now, they’re taking turns staying with me, presumably to ensure I don’t start drinking. Nothing I can say will convince them that I’ve been a teetotaler all my life, and plan to remain one. They have watched one too many reality shows, in my opinion.
Awesome Advisors, how can I get these annoying cretins to leave me alone, and let me collect my bottles in peace? They’re really cramping my style.
Dear Ms Babaganouj,
I’m afraid the jig is up. A few weeks ago, we received a letter from your children. you see, they expected you to contact us, as, after all, we are the Top Advice Givers in the World. They begged us to help, and help them we shall. In so doing, we shall also help you, you poor alcoholic weird lady with delusions.
In an effort to be fair, we did look at the video you sent, of the Argentinian man building his bottle house:
Very commendable and we wish him the best of luck. We would do the same for you as well, but along with the letter from your children was a photo of your so-called beer bottle house.
We believe you should agree to your children’s wishes, as they only want what’s best for you. Actually, they want two things: for you to stop drinking and also stop thinking you’re a creative soul with an ounce of talent.
Harsh, we know, but sometimes the truth hurts. Please, listen to your children and be the change that you want to see in your life.
Awesome Advice Central
Dear Awesome Advice Central,
I’m very concerned for my elderly mother, and think she may be losing her mind. She has joined a gang—well, she calls it her “bingo group,” but lately I’ve heard that they are actually a bunch of senior toughs who stroll around town intimidating law-abiding citizens, poking them with their canes, smacking young people with their handbags, and tipping over police boxes.
And now, dear Mama wants to buy, of all things, a motorcycle! At the ripe old age of 83, if you can imagine.
My question is: she’s been considering a Honda Goldwing, but I think she might get better value from a nice BMW. When I mention this, though, she gets very tetchy and tells me to mind my own beeswax. Then she whacks me with her purse, and storms off to her “bingo group.” I think they are a bad influence. She used to be so sweet! I want my real mummy back, AAC! What should I do?
Dear Mr. Burfle,
As you know, we don’t like to be rude here at AAC, but a question just begs to be asked and in so doing, I’m afraid we might appear a little…aggressive and annoyed.
Here goes: how old are you exactly? If you’re over five, and I believe you are, from the “Proud and Paid-Up Member of E-Harmony” sticker on your letterhead, we must insist you grow up and stop forcing your mother to live according to your standards.
In your favour, though, is the fact that we can tell you obviously care deeply for her, so here is our advice: tell her to go for a Harley. There’s nothing quite like the purr of that growling engine between the thighs of an 83-year-old. At least, that’s what our mother tells us. Why not buy one as well and join her on her “bingo” trips? You might find you enjoy it, and who knows, maybe her friends have an unmarried daughter looking for someone just like you.
As a side-note, we believe you’ve observed a very interesting phenomenon. Grannies are indeed taking over the world. We at AAC are looking forward to it, having decided years ago to sharpen our knitting needles to a point, buy black leathers, and book our tattoo appointments sometime in the next 10 years. I’m busily embroidering a Hell’s Grannies logo right now, as a matter of fact.
We hope this helps you, best of luck, catch you on the flip side,