Closing Time

My late Mom was a real trip. She was strong, kind, and funny. 

She was also straight to the point, no BS, “tell it like it is.” 

Luckily for me, I’ve inherited all that from her and more. But in this column, I’m going to focus on “telling it like it is.”

People used to say things about my Mom like, “She can tell you to go to hell in such a way, that you’ll ask her for directions.”

Throughout my entire life, people have come to me for advice—I was always like the proverbial “Dear Abby.” They know that while I may say it kindly with a little sugar, I’m going to tell them the truth. 

If you ask me if you should keep dating that jerk who treats you like garbage, I’ll be nice, but I’m basically going to tell you to kick them to the curb.

If you ask if I like that new show everyone’s talking about, I’m going to tell you if I think it’s great or if I don’t understand what the fuss is. I don’t care if something is popular; that’s not why I’ll like it. I’m not in middle school anymore.

If you ask me if I think a friend is a real friend or not, you may not like what I’m going to say, but I will always tell you the truth.

And that’s what it comes down to—telling the truth. 

When I was a kid, if my Mom had a lot of people over to her home for a cookout or a holiday or even just a casual get-together, she had her limits. When she was either tired of entertaining, tired of talking, or just plain tired, she would say, “You don’t have to go home, but you have to get out of here.”

Her friends weren’t ticked off by this. In fact, they found it endearing.

When I got to be a teenager, it embarrassed me. But as an adult, I realized that she was an absolute genius.

My husband and I like to have friends over, and pre-pandemic, we would have an annual holiday party between Christmas and New Year’s as well as various cookouts or games nights throughout the year. 

Let’s face it—it can be tiring if you’re having a whole house full of people. First, we had to clean our house—which was kind of ridiculous, as folks were just going to mess it up again. Had to vacuum up every crumb off the floor…just to have to do that same thing the next day.

Needed to prepare food, and sometimes, as for our holiday soirees, we had to make a lot of it. That’s a ton of work and just as much cleanup.

Then, we had to get showers and actually make ourselves look halfway decent, which for us, meant not sitting around wearing T-Shirts from past concerts we attended or, often in my case, shirts that I’ve fallen in love with and worn so often that they’re practically see-through. 

The bottom line is that all of this is tiring—super tiring. So when my husband and I got married and began having these types of gatherings in our home, we would get tired.

Once again, I followed in my mother’s footsteps. I began saying, “Okay, everyone. It’s been fun, but I’m tired.” Then of course, I had to add, “You don’t have to go home, but you have to get out of here.”

My friends have all taken it in stride. In fact, there have been particular friends at particular parties (you know who you are) who have taken bets on what time I would throw everyone out.

If the cookout started at 2 p.m., you might be on your way at 9 p.m.

If the games night didn’t start until 6 p.m., I will try my best to not nod off until at least 10 or 11 p.m.

And if you got there in the morning, why on earth are you still here? It’s the late afternoon! I need a nap!

My Mom was a lot of things, but she didn’t pussyfoot around. Neither do I.

Hey—speaking of that—why are you still here? This column is over. You don’t need to stop reading, but you have to stop reading this one…

Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski, when she’s not telling people to leave her home—but in a really nice way, writes “Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore. She’s also the author of the award-winning humor book Next Time I Move, They’ll Carry Me Out in a Box. You can connect with Wojo on Facebook or on Twitter.

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