Friday, March 19, 2010

Being 25 Means Squat At My House

Mom: What's going on with...your...toe nails?

Me: SIGH. What. What is wrong with my toe nails?

Mom: They're looking a little long.

Me: They're fine.

Mom: Are those my pants you're wearing?

Me: What? No. Why?

Mom: They look like mine.

Me: They're not yours.

Mom: I'll bet they're mine.

Me: Woman, they're not. Get off me.

Mom:....Is this a bad time to ask you to pack me a lunch for tomorrow?

Me: After you've insulted my hygiene and accused me of theft? Certainly not.

Mom: I'd like a bagel please.

Me: We need to talk about your people skills.

Mom: How do you get those toe nails into SOCKS? Don't they just tear right through?

Me: NO, MOM. THEY DON'T. I make sure to wrap them up in the pants I've stolen from you first and then just wear shoes big enough to fit them.

Mom: Those ARE my pants.

Me: I'm going to spit in your bagel.

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