Mother May I?

Is it just me, or should there be a mandated and forced relinquishing of motherly command upon the arrival of a child's 18th birthday? Perhaps even before that... Once a child reaches a certain level of maturity and self-reliance, a mother just really isn't practical.

Four months ago...
Mom: Did you get the wedding invitation?
Me: Yeah, I just got it in the mail today. It looks really nice, huh?
Mom: This is Johnny's kid, could you expect anything less than perfect?
Me: I guess you're right.
Mom: They put all the airline information in there, so you should buy your ticket soon. You're coming the farthest of anyone.
Me: Mom...the wedding's in October.
Mom: Ugh...you and your father, last minute everything!

This is what I will refer to as "planting the weed." This is the conversation where you realize your mother's id is satisfied by your complete annoyance. You make a mental note to avoid mention of any and all topics that could possibly be wedding or plane ticket related.

Two months ago...
Mom: Hi! How are you?
Me: I'm fine, just really busy with this project I'm working on.
Mom: Oh, really? How's it going?
Me: Things are going well, I'm just tired. But how weird is it that I'm working with Sara again? It's been fun though, and her friends are cool and all pretty talented.
Mom:You were both always so hard working, so it's not a bad combination.
Me: Yeah... I'm glad we...
Mom: Did you buy a ticket to the wedding yet?
Me: Mom...I've been busy.
Mom: Oh, Christine, it takes thirty seconds to buy a plane ticket.
Me: Thirty seconds is hard to come by when working three jobs, Mom.
Mom: If it's about the money I already told you we'd help out.
Me: It's not about the money, I told you you're not giving me anything.
Mom: Well then why haven't you bought it yet?
Me: Mom, I have to go.
Mom: Fine.

This one I'll call "self actualization." This is the conversation where the weed realizes that it's a weed, and that you've been avoiding it for a couple months. The weed will no longer be ignored. You hang up the phone and vow not to have a conversation with the weed for quite some time so as to have built up sufficient topics of conversation that won't allow digression to plane tickets or weddings.

One month ago...after receiving a voicemail from Mom
Me: Hey Mom! Sorry I missed your call...
Mom: Oh, I'm glad you're alright.
Me: Yeah, I'm fine, I've just been super busy.
Mom: Still?
Me: Yeah, well we were shooting for fourteen days straight and...
Mom: Did you get your ticket yet?
Me: NO! I've been busy, get off my back about it. I'll do it on Tuesday, that's the cheapest day to buy an airline ticket!! Where's dad? He might actually care to listen about what's going on in my life...

I'm not sure what to name this converation, but this is essentially when the child gets really freakin' pissed off and is certain this is the last time she will speak to mother.

Two days ago...
Me: Hey Mom...sorry I haven't called you back yet.
Mom: It's ok, I understand you're busy. So how is your project going?
Me: Really well! We're in the middle of a ten day break, so I've had time to catch up on things for when we start up again...and sleep.
Mom: Well that's good. You seemed really stressed out. How's your real job going?
Me: Mom...they're both real jobs.
Mom: Oh I know, but...you know what I mean.
**insert forty minutes of casual conversation**
Mom: So Uncle Johnny asked if you had purchased a ticket yet, and I told him you weren't coming because you hadn't.
Me: MOM!!! I'm fucking coming to the fucking wedding!! GEEZ!! I'll buy a damn ticket right now. It takes a bit more than thirty seconds to go to a million websites, compare prices, itineraries, work schedules, various airports, and then check credit card limits and budget limitations!! But I'm gonna buy it right fucking now, just for you Mom, just for you. Happy?!?! Jesus... Bye!!!!

This is the conversation where A) the mother gets hung up on, but realizes that her attempts at motivation using all possible forms of psychology resulted in success, and B) the child realizes that she's been tricked and screwed over by her own mother, both at the same time. The constant nagging by mom served as the antithesis of motivation and in fact discouraged the ticket purchase for so long that now ticket prices require a mortgage.

Basically, boo to motherly control, or influence, or contamination...whatever you want to call it.