Yesterday was Mother’s Day. So thank you, Mom, for having sex and bringing me into the world. It was the best thing that ever happened to her (and to me), or at least that’s what she tells me. Not the sex part. I don’t want to hear about my mother having sex.
But she does like to make sure I play safely (and sometimes nicely) with others. I speed-dialed my mom, and of course what was supposed to be a quick well-wishing turned into an hour-long discussion about why I never call and how I should always use condoms and, God damn it, why does the dog always smell like shit and I don’t think your brother loves me, I must be a horrible mother.
I transcribed the following from our conversations while I’ve been at college. It’s not a single one-on-one, but rather the best of the best, compiled and arranged for your pleasure. Thank goodness I’m not living at home.
And yes, mom, I still love you. This one’s for you.