So I had this conversation last week:
Mom: "These kitties need new collars."
Me: "You buy them new collars every damn day. They're the best collared kitties in the state. Possibly the country."
Mom: "They need Wofford collars. Black and gold would suit them."
Me: "They do not make Wofford collars for cats, Mom. They might have dog collars, but I'm sure there are no cat collars."
Mom: "Piss sh!t! They have dog collars and not cat collars! That is prejudice!"
Me: "Our mascot is a dog, Mom."
Mom: "This is not fair."
And I thought that was it. You know, just a random conversation about the sartorial inequities of dogs and cats. No biggie.
A few days later:
Mom: "What time does the campus store open?"
Me: "I'm not telling you."
Mom: "Why not?"
Me: "You will go over there to look for Wofford cat collars, and when you don't find any, you will complain to the store managers. And they know whose mother you are."
Then I thought that was it, and no more mention of college-themed collars would be made. Sometimes, I forget whose daughter I am. There is just no way she was letting this go.
As I was leaving for a colleague's retirement party:
Mom: "Drive safely."
Me: "I will."
Mom: "Will Bernie be there?"
Me: [unthinkingly] "Probably."
Mom: "You will ask him about the kitty collars!"
Me: "I am not going harass the college president about cat collars. Forget it."
Mom: "Yes, you will ask him! You will tell him that it is not fair and that they will get some kitty collars because if you do not ask him, I will drive over there tomorrow and go to his office myself! This is prejudice against kitties!"
Me: "First of all, I do not know that they even sell dog collars. I just sort of figured that they might. Second, you do not know where Bernie's office is, and even if you find it, it is up a steep stairway."
Mom: "Piss on that stairway! My favorite security guy, that really big and cute one, will take me to Bernie's office and carry me up those stairs! He will and you know it! Now are you going to talk to Bernie, or do I have to go out there?"
I know when I am beaten.
Later that evening:
Me: "Bernie says that the lizard leashes will fit cats."
Mom: "I do not know what that means."
Me: "I don't either. Apparently, there are leashes for lizards that will fit cats. I haven't seen them, though, so maybe he's just making this up."
Mom: "Bernie would make that up?"
Me: "No, probably not."
Mom: "I do not like this. Lizard leashes are not good enough for kitties. They need proper Wofford collars. You need to talk to Mike."
Me: "No! This has gone far enough. I am not calling the head football coach to complain about a lack of cat collars! That is insane!"
Me: "No! No, 'hmph!' That is a bad sound! You stop thinking whatever you're thinking right now!"
Mom: "You are too upset to discuss this with. We will talk about it more when you calm down."
I have not calmed down.
Mom is trying to get me to pass around a petition among my colleagues and students rallying for Wofford College cat collars. She is quite put out that I have so far refused to distribute said petition. But if you see a little old woman on campus with a clipboard and a really determined look on her face, for Athena's sake, just give her some brandy and send her home.