A Running Commentary

A Conversation With My Mother

Just so you know, for when I get lazy, what my mama says is in italics.

"Ugh.. It smells like ass in here..." I say.
"How do you know what ass smells like?" She responds.
"Do you really want to hear the answer to that, or was it just a rhetorical question?" I ask her.
"Well, I'm just saying that you don't have any basis for comparison." She tells me.
"Not that you know of." I tell her.
"Well.. I'm just saying..."
"And I'm just saying, that for all you know, I could be handing out the rim jobs."
"What's a rim job?"
"I feel that, after the whole 'pearl necklace' incident, you should just look that up on the internet.. That's what it's for.. to look up sexual-related terms that your daughter doesn't want to explain to you."
"Well, I sometimes need to know things like that for my courses."
"Mom, I do not know what kind of fucked up psych courses you are taking, but if knowing the definition of a rim job is a pre-requisite.. I suggest you switch courses."
"Just use it in a sentence."
"Okay, fine. My name is Megan, and despite what my mother thinks, I do not hand out rim jobs."
"That didn't help me. Use it in another sentence."
"My mother wants me to give her the definition of what a rim job is, and that makes me uncomfortable."
"Use it one more time."
"In order to pay for tuition this year, I may be forced to give out rim jobs in exchange for money."
"You are not being particularly helpful, Megan..."
"Then my job here is done. If you need me, I will be downstairs explaining to Jamie (a.k.a. my little brother) what a rim job is."
"You are a smart ass."
"I am not sure how healthy your obsession with asses is, Mom..."