mom: "Now, I'm just mad."
me: "So you skipped all the other stages of denial. I know the feeling. I guess."
mom: "So anyway, that's when I told the cops 'Next time, I'll put three bullets in their chest and one in the head.'"
me: "It's not that I don't agree. I'm just sayin'. In that case, I hope Frank Melton breaks into your house next time. Did I tell you that I was walking the dog the other night, and he scared two kids on bikes, one crashed into a parked car, the other fell on the ground, and I just kept on talking and walking with a phone, like I was a Wall Street trader or somebody? I feel kind of bad about that. Shouldn't I feel bad about that?"
mom: "You know what I got?"
me: "I mean, I do feel bad about that. But it's not like he was a small kid. In fact, he was too old to be riding that bike. You know what I mean? I mean, he was like old enough to be advised by some adult to sue or something. Is that just wrong of me? I mean, he looked like he drank beer already. I should feel bad, shouldn't I."
mom: "Hey listen, you know what I got?"
me: ...
mom: "I got rhythmmmmm, I got muuuuusic -- ha!"
me: "So they sell that on QVC now?"
mom: "Have you tried one of these apples? I bought $23 worth of them the other day. Guess what I had for dinner."
me: "Rhythm?"
Yes, I do love my mom.
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