Scene: Talking on the phone with my mom one weekend morning.
Me: Yeah, I just got woken up by my wine being delivered.
Mom: Oh, most people wake up with coffee, but I guess, with you, it's wine.
Me: I guess?
Mom: Yeah.
Me: Well, the delivery guy was terrified of Rocco. He rushed my signature and didn't even check my ID!
Mom: Aw.
Me: What if I was underage??
Mom: What if you were an FBI agent??
Me: Ri--what, what?
Mom: FBI!
Me: So... Basically, you're saying it's more believable that I'm an FBI agent than that I'm under 21?
Mom: ...Yeah.
Me: ...
Me: Whatever, you're almost 60.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Typical
Posted by Lisa at 9:34 PM
Labels: family, self-indulgence
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
If it would make you feel better, I'm willing to try to get you the child discount at the movies next time.
Yes, please.
I would use that youthful looking thing for everything it's worse. Case in point, TC's note about child admission to movies. Getting you in the rated R ones could be tough
Post a Comment