Mom and the greatest sanctuary on Earth.

This is my mother's refrigerator. I've written many stories about my crazy family and my mother in particular. For those of you out of the loop, Mom saves everything and still shops as though all five kids, my father and grandmother were living at home. She lives alone now and lots of readers laugh when I recount her crazy escapades-- how she bought 30 Oster blenders at Pic N Save (now called "Big Lots" for you young folk) and then returned them all to 10 different Macy's for in store credit so that she could buy us a ton of Macy's gifts at Christmas. People think she's just wacky when she makes us save our wrapping paper at birthdays and Christmas so that it can be reused, and everyone loves that she still yells, "Dammit! We can't have anything nice!" when something breaks or spills in the house.

But this is reality. Oh yes, this is her refrigerator. Please note on the bottom right-hand drawer the packages of Nestle Cookies just waiting to be popped into a hot oven. Or in the drawer on the left I can spot three packages of Kraft Singles, which would be really exciting if we had a grilled cheese day! This could be like a new version of "Where's Waldo!" Spot the three dozen eggs housed on the first two shelves! It's breakfast bonanza time! Name all the different butter brands (I can spot 3, how about you?) And she even has a gallon of milk for... herself? Who else is she serving milk and cookies to? Why wasn't I invited? And why are there packages of dry pasta in the cold cuts drawer on the left?

I stopped by San Diego on Wednesday and as I hit Camp Pendleton I realized there are always a few things I can count on picking up at Mom's: toothpaste, bottles of Advil, and snacking on some Oreo or Mother's cookies. I try not to buy too many fattening snacks because, well, I'll eat them. I work from home and inevitably set some silly goals in an attempt to control myself. Such as, If I complete a paragraph THEN I can eat a cookie!. Of course, it will be a 1500 word feature, so by the time I finish my rewrite the packages are all empty. So part of my payment for visiting Mom is that I can treat myself in her pantry...

But she was out. Oh yeah, there were NO cookies, cakes, muffins, or brownies to be found in Ché Andreoli. Three containers with leftover dinners, but no snacks, and I didn't have time to heat up the oven and discover that Nestle really does make the very best. No, I needed to munch and run since I had to work on an article in San Diego. The only thing I could find were some Special K cereal bars and that wasn't exciting!

Then this happened...
For those of you who are unaware, these are comic book boxes. This stack is my collection from when I moved to LA in 1993 until now. But I'm moving from a 1200 square foot apartment into an 800 one. We have no space but I couldn't get rid of the comics. I just couldn't!

Comics were my life growing up and on a certain level they still are. They brought me into working at Comic-Con International in San Diego, they filled my imagination with amazingly fun times. They made me happy when life was crappy, offered distraction from the mundane, and were one of the things that inspired me to become a writer. I'm still developing some comic book ideas and pitches because one of my current goals is to be writing those in tandem with my novels, and when one is as obsessed about the topic as I am, you can't just give away years of your history.

But then there's Mom. Only she understands this sort of need to hold onto things, and in fact this photo is of the comic books I'd collected and left in her house before moving to LA. So it wasn't like I was invading her space, I was just bringing collections together. And Mom didn't care. When I suggested bringing these boxes down she said, "Of course!" without even pausing.

I did get a call from her later that day-- I thought to make a joke about the number of boxes I'd left-- but it was only to say, "Oh, I saw all those stuffed animals Steve got from Disney and they're so cute!" Steve was part of a big discount sale, blindly grabbed a bunch of toys and now we're set for the next 10 Christmases, but I'm storing them at Mom's house since that's where holidays reside (and we have no room in our new home). "You weren't kidding that he grabbed a ton," she continues, excited like a little girl. "And for only $6! That's just amazing! I wish he'd been around when all the kids were that young because we wouldn't have needed to buy any gifts ever again! I mean, $6, you can't beat that with a stick!..."

On and on. She didn't care about the comics, she only cared that Steve had scored a magnificent deal.

So really, I'm in no position to complain about the lack of cookies. After all, if it wasn't for Mom, I don't know what I would have done.