Mom and I were just discussing what to have for breakfast (I'm cooking) and I whined that I really, REALLY wanted pancakes. Now, Mom is on the Atkins diet and can't have pancakes, which means that today I don't get any, either. Mom's response to my tantalizing description of the hot, fluffy, buttery pancakes I'd make if I were in my own kitchen? "Shut UP! You have to wait until you move to bumfuck!"
This immediately following a discussion on the pros and cons of various birth control methods and why nobody, ever, should have kids. Don't forget I am having this conversation with my Mother, who it seems only very reluctantly agreed to birth me after much pleading from my Father, who, by the way, is no longer around to suffer the misery of parenthood. Mom: "Oh, you guys are great now that you've grown up and GONE AWAY. It's the first thirty years that really suck."
Sometimes I feel so loved it makes my shriveled black heart recoil in horror.