This morning I went to take a picture of the postcard-sized bruise on my thigh so I could send it to Bub and TB, but decided against it because my legs have abandoned summerhood and have now taken on their winter form.
So, I'm getting ready to shut my phone (because that's my fancy camera) and I see this picture of a woman on the screen and I was like "I didn't know I had pictures of my mom on here!" That's because I don't. "Oh wait a minute. . ." Yeah that's right. "I just got this phone, how could I have pictures of...?" Get there. "No." Oh yes. "that's because I don't." Yeah, that's right - I don't.
It wasn't my mom, it was me. The camera was still on and I was looking at myself NOT my mom. "Take that back!" I shouted at the phone, as if it could undo it, because surely I don't look so much like her I can't even recognize myself. "You take that back this instant!"
The phone did no such thing, and now consequentially, it is floating, face down in my coffee.
I hope it suffered.
2 comments:
Good thing your Mom is pretty or else you might be in big trouble. Then again, you could always go the plastic surgery route, just think for only a few hundred thousand you too could look like Morgan Fairchild.
Just wait until you start laughing at something and then turn suddenly expecting to see your mom standing there because you'd recognize that cackle anywhere.
Happens to me. Almost daily.
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