As I emptied the laundry basket onto my mother's bed, I was playing the new Chappell Roan album and dancing by myself to the beat. "Now we're knee deep in the passenger seat...," I lip synced as I twirled around the room. I hate folding clothes, but I was in a great mood, knowing that I was only a week away from finally returning to college for my sophomore year after taking an unexpected gap year.
I was warming my hands in the pile of laundry, still toasty from the dryer, when it occurred to me that the clothing tells so much of my story. There are two sets of women's clothes, all the same size, but otherwise nothing aike. That's my mom and me. Physically, we look astonishingly similar. The old cliché really does hold true: she could be my sister. We are both tall and slender with bright blue eyes, perfect teeth, full lips and dirty blonde hair -- even though mine is dyed pink at the moment. We're basically twins. Mom had me when she was exactly my age, 21, and it seems that she hasn't aged a day since.
Even still, mom's style could not be further from mine. I dress like the college-aged baddie that I am: short shorts, mini skirts, go-go boots, body-hugging halter tops -- I have a cute, feminine aesthetic. Ellie, on the other hand, dresses like a frumpy old lady. Loose sweat pants, unflattering jeans, baggy sweaters. Sometimes I think my mother is 42 going on 70. I wear lacy silk underwear and thongs. She wears granny parties -- one of the reasons why I have dubbed her "Boomer," the other being her doltish incompetence with computers.
Since I wouldn't be caught dead wearing any of her old lady clothes, sorting the laundry is easy. Even the bras are easy to sort now that we no longer wear the same size. My mother and I both have that classic, hourglass figure, but while we are both generously endowed, my breasts are just big. Hers are massive. Ever since mom had my baby brother Tyler two and a half years ago, her breasts have grown fuller and even firmer. It feels weird saying this about my mother, but it's true: she has incredible tits. Mom never flaunts her big rack, but she doesn't need to: even buried under sweatshirts and sweaters, her breasts draw covetous looks from both men and women wherever she goes. She calls them her "nursers" because of how much Tyler enjoys breast feeding. She even told me that his constant suckling, both for sustenance and for comfort, has made her nipples more sensitive than ever.
Tyler is the most beautiful little creature in the entire world in my eyes -- and, of course, in my mother's. We both love him fiercely. He was an "oops baby" that Ellie never intended to have at age 40, especially not when her marriage was already on the rocks, but he is the best thing that ever happened to our family. Mom loves to hug us both at the same time, saying, "Jessica and Tyler, my two biggest blessings." The slack-jawed gawkers always staring at my mom's boobs would probably disagree with that, but of course I love hearing it.
Sadly, my mom never mentions a third blessing because she doesn't have one. My dad is no longer in the picture. My parents split up as soon as Tyler was born, which is why adorable little onesies are the only men's clothing in the laundry today -- and every day. Dad was an alcoholic who had emotionally checked out years before they actually divorced, but it all came to a head when Tyler was born. Dad didn't even attend the birth. By that point, things had deteriorated so badly that he just dropped mom at the hospital and drove himself straight to a bar. Ellie hasn't been on a single date since the divorce and I bet she hasn't got laid since Tyler was conceived. It is time for her.
I have tried before to get my mother back onto the dating scene, but without success. I think my asshole father did a real number on the poor woman. Plus, mom can't work a smart phone to save her life, so dating apps would only confuse her. I don't call her "Boomer" for nothing.
Mom never even shows any interest in men, probably because she has so little time for a social life. Between raising Tyler as a single mother and working full-time as a bookkeeper, the woman has a lot of responsibility on her perfectly-sculpted shoulders. I try to help out where she needs it. And right now, I think she needs help dipping a toe back in the dating pool. I've been living at home for the past year, but now that I'm going back to college, I don't want her to be alone and lonely. My mom is still young and vibrant and she deserves a partner who keeps her feeling that way.
After I finished folding and putting away the laundry, I decided that I would build an enticing dating profile for mom -- one that really showcases her amazing, attractive qualities -- and try to get her back out there. She is way too vivacious and beautiful to become a sad old spinster at age 42.
I don't have any experience using dating apps. I met all my partners IRL. I had a few boyfriends in high school and then I experimented a bit when I went to college, hooking up with girls. I wouldn't say I'm bisexual, but I'm curious and exploring. "Gay for the stay," so to speak. Maybe I'm a "BUG" - bi until graduation. In any event, my mother seems strictly heterosexual, so I focused my search on apps catering to middle-aged single women looking to date single men.
It took some searching to find the right app for mom. A lot of dating apps are just for people looking for a quick hook up. My mother is far too prudish for that. She would probably faint if some rando fuck boi sent her a dick pic. No, no, Ellie needs a gentleman looking to court a lady. That eliminated a bunch of options. Then I eliminated a few more dating apps because they require the woman to make the first move. I know Ellie and she doesn't have it in her to ask a man out on a date. She thinks it is the man's job to initiate. "It isn't a woman's place," she would say. Like I said, my mother may look much younger than 42, but she acts much older. She's not religious, but she's just... traditional. Fuck, you'd never suspect the woman actually works outside the home. She is such a stereotypical homemaker -- the little woman who should be barefoot in the kitchen with a baby in her belly as she waits for her man to come home for dinner.
When I finally found the right app for my mother to join, I started work on her profile. This was the fun part. Ellie is a pretty, voluptuous blonde with a cute laugh and a lust for life. She is a treasure and I want to help her find a man who treats her like one. I was determined to make her profile shine as brightly as she does.
That's why I decided to tell nothing but the truth as I wrote mom's profile. Everyone embellishes on these apps, but I wanted to do the opposite and keep it a buck. I wanted mom to stand out from the pack, like a shimmering oasis of womanly virtue in a desert of spray-tanned Instagram thots. Mom doesn't need eyelash extensions, wigs, colored contact lenses, fillers, filters, or any of that bullshit and she certainly doesn't need to lie about herself to attract a man. In a world of frozen Botox smiles and silicone tits, mom is the real deal, a gorgeous specimen of all-natural womanhood, and I wanted her profile to capture that.
"Are you a man who wants it all?" I wrote, smiling to myself. What man doesn't want it all? "Well I've got it. The only thing I'm missing is you. I'm a fun, funny, single mother with a joie de vivre. I enjoy cappuccino, karaoke, classic rock, and baseball games at night under the lights. Whether it's cooking a special dinner or snuggling under a blanket for movie night, I can keep things hot in the kitchen and the bedroom. If you're ready to sweep me off my feet, slide into my DMs."
That last line is so cringe, but it makes me laugh anyhow because mom couldn't tell you what a "DM" is if her life depended on it. That's just the Boomer in her. The woman has probably had five iPhones over the years, maybe more, but she still can't work the damn thing, which is why I set up her profile with my cell phone number. That way, I can be the one to text back and forth with her potential suitors. I can weed out the sketchy losers for her. And if I find a promising candidate, I won't have to worry that Ellie will scare him off because she has the text game of someone who is clearly more comfortable using a rotary phone.
