09.09.04 :: 9:01 am


My mother asked me yesterday what I wanted for my birthday and I immediately blurted "Oh my God! Nothing, please, the medical bills you've covered is plenty,"

and she said, "Sweetheart, that would be the most depressing gift I can think of."

She counters this awesomeness, of course, with early morning calls threatening bodily harm to me because I keep forgetting to bring her the shawl I borrowed a week ago.

To the raisin farm with you, crazy mother!

earlier / next