Working With My Mom...

Frequently goes something like this:

Me: Do you have any mints?
Mom: I think I have one at the bottom of my gum tin. (**pulls out her gum tin - whatever the heck that is - and proceeds to pour all the gum out on top of an audit she's working on.**)
Mom: Oh see, there's one.
Me: Thanks, can I take some gum too in case I want it?
Mom: What if you don't want it?
Me: (**looking at the gum in my hand I already picked up - it's not wrapped, it's like big chicklets**) Do you want it back?
Mom: No.
Me: I just washed my hands because I went to the bathroom so all of this is clean.
Mom: Did you wash the key too?
Me: No.
Mom: Well then it's not all clean.
Me: Well, I didn't even really wash my hands so there goes that.
Mom: That's not funny. I always wash the key. Do you know how many people don't wash the key?
Me: Everyone.
Mom: Yeah.
Me: Which is why I don't wash my hands - what's the difference really?
Mom: . . .
Me: . . .
Mom: I swear to God you better be funning me or I'm going to smack you.
Me: (**turn and walk to my desk so she can't read my face, I hate working with my Mom sometimes, it's so hard to lie. I'm fairly certain she can judge my soul if she looks at me right**)
Mom: Amy Michele, I mean it.
Me: I do ok!


Ok, two things are wrong with this. Number 1 - 'you better be funning me'? Uh, ok unidentified black rapper - can I get you some more Cristal? What about for your shorty?

And Number 2 - she's never smacked me in her life. My dad spanked me once on my butt when I was like 2 but the sound apparently was much louder than either of them expected and they both started crying while I stared up at them unharmed, and wondering if I could play with the scissors and Becky's hair some more.