Sigh. Moms, yanno?
Actual phone conversation I just had with my mom.
Mom: I just had a holy shit moment.
Me: Oh? What happened?
(Brain read everything my mom says from this point forward in a conspiratorial whisper voice)
Mom: I just went into the bedroom and you wont believe what I saw.
Me: (Strung along) Oh? What?
Mom: Your father was in there on the bed alone...
Me: (PleaseDontSayHeWasJerkingIt) Oh? Is everything okay?
Mom: He was on the bed and when I went in there he immediately hid something under the sheets.
Me: (Still...please god no) Oh? I mean, is everything okay?
Mom: He had a boxcutter that he was hiding from me. When I went in there he really quickly hid it so I couldn't see.
Me: (New version of OhGodNoWhat? because alone+boxcutter) Uhm...thats not good. Is everything okay? Do I need to step away from my desk.
Mom: He was...CUTTING UP A CARDBOARD BOX ON TOP OF MY EXPENSIVE EGYPTIAN SHEETS AND BEDCOVER. HE RUINED MY EXPENSIVE BEDROOM SET AND NOW I HAVE TO REPLACE IT BECAUSE HE CUT THROUGH TO THE MATTRESS.
God damn it, Mom.
Whew. Sigh of relief. I love my mom forever but god damn it her storytelling style freaks me out like this at least once every other month. She doesn't do this on purpose for fun, either. It'll be like:
Mom: Oh. My. God. The craziest thing happened you'll never guess...
Me: Hit me. What happened?
Mom: So I turn down this aisle and I'm all alone, and I see this big guy with tattoos and this pretty girl ALL ALONE IN THE AISLE...
Me: Oh no, what were they doing?
Mom: ...it was BOB AND JEAN'S SON, BARRY. HE'S BACK FROM SERVING OVERSEAS. HE'S COVERED IN TATTOOS, HAS A BEAUTIFUL GIRLFRIEND, AND THEY INVITED US ALL TO A BARBECUE NEXT WEEK.
AAAAAAAAUGHFJEOEI3U38...