Freud, Oedipus and the Green Grocer

Otter: I think vegetable can be very sensuous, don't you?
Marion: No, vegetables are sensual. People are sensuous. --National Lampoon's Animal House

A dear friend and fellow blogger called me with a story. He wasn't sure if it was worth telling or to whom to tell it, or even in what form it should take. I am a known thief, though I will try to convince both myself and my victims that I am only helping out. In this case I did give my friend the punch line to the story and thus I now feel comfortable laying claim to part of this tale.

Earlier this week, his father passed a kidney stone. Though I have never had the honor of this excruciating and debilitating event I have heard tell it is the male equivalent to childbirth. This I doubt, having witnessed my wife deliver three children, the last of which had a head shaped like a four slice toaster; still I can imagine it is very painful.

My friend's mother, a true lady, has never added driving to her many charms and talents. With her husband laid up, the duty fell to my friend to take his mother food shopping.

It is important for this story that you understand that my friend, while in no way cheap, is very frugal and hates waste--monetary or otherwise. While going through the produce section, his mother reached for cucumbers.

"No," my friend said, "they are $1.50 each. I just got three for a dollar at Magruder's. I will give you some of mine."

Around the next corner, his mother went to pick out bananas.

"No," my friend said, "I just bought 4 pounds at Costco. We'll never use them all before they go bad. I will give you some of mine."

Shopping done. He took her directly home. She said she would be in his neighborhood the next day and would stop by for the fruits and vegetables he had for her.

At 9:30 the next evening, he got a call from his mother saying she was almost at his house. It was not until he was about to answer the door holding bananas in one hand and cucumbers in another, that the image hit him.

He really felt weird when he realized he was in his bathrobe. (Which I am sure felt like a satin smoking jacket at that point.)

He told me this story and then asked what Freud would think about the scenario.

I said "Forget Freud, what about Oedipus? Here you were insisting that your mother take your phalluses while your father was so clearly out of commission."

He screamed "Oh my God, I never thought about that. Ahhhhhhhhh!"

It is so nice to help out a friend in need. Just as an aside, his mother does have a Marion Wormer quality.