Chapter II
My mom is an expert in everything. From literature, math,
history and foreign languages down to politics, fire fighter codes and nuclear
physics.
God forbids someone else can have an opinion, and if she
accepts to listen to that opinion it will be, most definitely, wrong. My
mother’s opinion in the truth and nothing else is acceptable. Even if she
agrees with you she will find a misusage of a word and draws the attention from
the previous matter by listing everything that was wrong with the way you used
the word, hence creating another argument that she can win at.
My mom’s opinion is always the right one, unless that
opinion comes from the TV that she listens to, religiously and if the doctor
says is like this, than the doctor is a crazy bastard who is trying to kill
her, because the nice lady in the talking box said it the other way around.
The nice lady in the talking box taught her to eat healthy,
so she buys every shit that she can find with the word “healthy” on it. She
buys the weird black and seeds bread, that I can’t stand, and we are all
obligated to eat that stuff.
Unless I’m on a diet.
The word diet sparks a plug in my mom’s brain, a plug that
makes her crave non diet-y stuff, therefore when I’m “on a diet” you’ll find in
the house the following: Coca cola, cake, French fries, chocolate chip cookies,
chocolate, ice cream and many other non diet-y groceries.
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