mom: "Well, China best not be so full of themselves these days. Since we aren't gettin' paid, they ain't gettin' paid either y'know. Oh that reminds me, I heard on the television the other day that drinking coffee makes your bosoms smaller."
me: "Three cups, I think you told me."
mom: "Yeah, did I? Well, if that's the truth, I'm totin' a pot around with me everywhere I go from now on. I hate my bosoms. They just get in the way."
me: "...'bosoms'...I think you mean 'bosom', singular."
mom: "Yeah, whatever, breasticles. Every time I ever said anything about gettin' rid of my bosoms, your Daddy would go, 'I wish I had some. I wouldn't get anything done all day.'''
me: "Yeah. You know what, you don't have to tell me those stories, ma. Those are 'you and him' stories, you know what I mean?"
mom: "Did you hear me? I said, he goes, 'I wouldn't get anything done all day!'"
2 comments:
You can tell your dad that bossoms aren't all that they're cracked up to be. I know, thanks to my beer diet.
You think I'm not going to write you in, but personally, I can't wait until you're President. If you decide to write a book about beer boobs. I'll contribute in photos--West Memphis Walmart is just too close not to...
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