Scene: My folks and their two best friends from seminary, hanging out at our place.
Moi: Ma, come drink with us!
Mother: Let me finish this email first, then I'll come drink.
I know a lot of y'alls grew up in progressive households, but that felt weird to say, especially since these two best friends used to babysit me and brought me to many a doctors' visits. And they're all pastors. Then again, my mother just isn't cut out to drink. She spent most of dinner trying to convince us her Miller Lime tasted better with ice. Infinite head shakes.
Scene: I'm trying to find Mother somewhere in Harvard Yard.
Moi: Ma, where are you?
Mother: I don't know. Hold on. (Hands phone to girl at mozzarella stand at Farmer's Market) Can you tell my daughter where this place is?
Moi: Yeah... hi, sorry about that... where are you located?
No comments:
Post a Comment