Words Do Not Begin To Describe

Mother just called me about my senior pictures.

Moi: The pictures are for you, not me, so it's up to you if you buy them or not. I'm not a part of this.

Mother: The picture makes it look like you're pregnant...

Moi: Then don't buy the pictures. They're your pictures to keep.

Mother: It's just that I know you're a lot better looking than this.

Moi: If you don't like them, don't buy them.

Mother: Maybe we'll get them professionally done next time. Your high school ones turned out so nice.

Moi: No, they didn't. That's why we always use mine from sophomore year of high school. You complained about my senior pictures for months (something about how my 'buddy shots' with Lenny [who's a girl] made us look like nervous lovers...).

Mother: Oh. Maybe I'll get the cheapest package then. But none of these four look any good.

Moi: You could stop telling me how bad they looked and just not buy them. The pictures aren't for me, they're for you.

Mother: It really looks like you're pregnant...