Am in a waiting room, sitting next to a lovely plastic plant covered in delicate white plastic flowers, and it just bit me, the little bastard. Wait until I tell Mom about this. She takes notes. Will be writing a book about this soon. If the shrubbery doesn't get her first.
At 89, Mom, the world's oldest living stripper still working (between naps), is a real dance machine, though we'll eventually need to do something about the diaper.
I bet you couldn't take my Mom in a fair fight if she was sober and felt like wasting her time and got to limber up first.
I don't mean to brag but I'm better than you. Mom said so. She's always right, or else.
I miss Mom when she goes away. She's a zeppelin pilot. And a helium addict in her spare time.
I told Mom I wanted to be something special when I grew up and she suggested an aardvark sandwich with tuna sauce and a cherry on top. So maybe.
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Me? Would be totally lost without myself.
