My mother came down from
When I stared at her sputtering she explained that she needed Q-tips and rather than looking in the cabinet above the sink she decided to ransack a plastic tub that I keep for the things I rarely ever use. By ransack I mean dump on the floor and then scoop back in with limited success. Now there is yellow fuzz in there from my bathmat and the box of Q-tips she found she ripped open and left UPSIDE DOWN in the tub. The tub used to be organized with everything in its proper place. Now it looks like a sanitary napkin salad with Q-tip croutons.
She also apparently rifled through my books, my comic books and my desk.
So, Mother, let me make this clear: if you rummaged through my bed stand and found anything traumatizing, well, it serves you right.
As a final note, the trip actually went really well and I wish I could see Mother just a little bit more, but it is this kind of Bridget Jones’ Diary variety of hijinks that Mother always undertakes that makes me all twitchy and