So my mom comes home last night. She knocks upon me bedroom door. I think we were probably discussing Matt and making fun of him at the time. She knocks again. I cry lightheartedly.
Mom tentatively cracks the door.
She's a weary little Mommy person, looking all worn from what was destined to be a rough day for her nursey self. So she begins with a sigh and an assertion of this assumption with some sentence that probably contained profanity. My mom issa potty mouth. So I hop down from my kickass bed, offering my sympathies and moving towards the doorway where she stands. Arn sits up.