Mom: "Look at that! Look at that! That is not right!"
Me: "What now?"
Mom: "That car in front of us; that is a Mustang."
Mom: "So why is it that pissy-shit color?!"
Me: "It is green."
Mom: "It is icky-green! That is not the color of a Mustang. Look, I see the little horse! That is definitely a Mustang."
Mom: "Why aren't you upset about this? Look at that color!"
Me: "I already quoted Star Trek at you. Shall I repeat myself?"
Mom: "This is not a star trekkie thing! Look! Mustangs are black or white or red. And that is it."
Me: "Well, this one is lime green."
Mom: "They have ruined the Mustang!"
Me: "Maybe the owners wanted a lime green Mustang."
Mom: "The owners can [multiple expletives deleted]. This is not right!"
Me: "Would you like me to write to the Ford Motor Company to express your outrage?"
Mom: "Yes! Also, ram that car and ruin that ugly paint job."
Me: "I will not be ramming any cars today."
Mom: "You do not understand what's important in life. Lime green Mustangs are wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!"
Me: "I'm sorry. But don't you think people should be able to have whatever color car they want?"
Mom: "No, I do not! The rest of us have to look at those cars. And this is a Mustang."
Me: "So you have said. I don't get it."
Mom: "Won't you ram that car for your poor mother?"
Mom: "Fine. I like your sister better anyway."