Me: If it's any consolation, both the juicer and the wheat grass are Will's . . . I'm just the operator.
Mom: Yes, but YOU allowed it in your domicile. GUILTY! And, you kiss the lips that DRINK wheat grass juice. Me? I'd rather eat puke cookies.
August 13, 2011
My Mother Has Since Disowned Me
Mom: All I can say is this: First, she moves to Treehuggerville . . . Then lands a job with a biofuel company . . . And now THIS. Every Republican mother's nightmare . . . a juicer. A JUICER? That's bad enough, but WHEAT GRASS? There's the frosting on THAT heartbreak cake. Say it isn't so, Pea! What next? An effin' Smart Car?????
Me: If it's any consolation, both the juicer and the wheat grass are Will's . . . I'm just the operator.
Mom: Yes, but YOU allowed it in your domicile. GUILTY! And, you kiss the lips that DRINK wheat grass juice. Me? I'd rather eat puke cookies.
Me: If it's any consolation, both the juicer and the wheat grass are Will's . . . I'm just the operator.
Mom: Yes, but YOU allowed it in your domicile. GUILTY! And, you kiss the lips that DRINK wheat grass juice. Me? I'd rather eat puke cookies.
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Love this. It is so funny! Maybe you should send some of that juice to your mom.
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