Saturday, October 5, 2013

Real Conversations with Mom: A Discourse Dispute on I-85

Me:  Mom, would you do me a favor once we get back?

Mom:  Maybe.

Me:  Please stop telling people that you broke your hand because I beat you.  Someone is going to call the police.

Mom:  I'm not lying.  You do beat me.

Me:  At backgammon.

Mom:  You still beat me.

Me:  Please?

Mom:  Okay.  But I'm telling everybody that you wet the bed.

Me:  I did not wet the bed!

Mom:  Yes, you did!  You wet the bed and turned the sheets blue!

Me:  Mom!  I got on the bed in a wet swimsuit cover-up, and it bled all over the sheets.

Mom:  Yes!  And I had to sleep on the sofa because you wouldn't sleep in the blue wet spot.  So I'm telling everyone you wet the bed.

Me:  You know, I could start beating you.

Mom:  You know you won't.  I'm too cute.  And I have a poor little broken hand.

Me:  How does your poor hand feel today?

Mom:  It feels bad sitting next to a bed-wetter, that's how it feels.

Me: <sigh>

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