Caterwauling

Mom:  So what do you have planned for the day?

Me:  The usual – squeezing a stinky banana smelling concoction down Simone’s throat, writing some ramblings, frolicking in the ‘boken.

Mom:  Too bad you aren’t closer…

Me:  I’m making guacamole for lunch.  You should come SON OF A BITCH!!  JESUS H. CHRIST!  YOU’RE KILLING ME!  HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL.  MAKE IT END!!!

Mom:  Ouch.  Stop yelling.

Me:  ARGH!!  IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!  SNIVELING SNUFFLEUPAGUS!

Mom:  Seriously.  What the hell is wrong with you?!

Me:  Lucy just attempted to jump in my lap.  She overestimated her jumping skills, fell a little short, and decided to compensate with claws on bare legs.

Mom:  You’re worse than your father.  I swear I’ve never heard of anyone carrying on more than you two if God forbid you should have one little injury.

Me:  Well, I might have inherited the drama gene from more than one side o’ the family.

Mom:  Smart ass.  NOW what’s that noise?

Me:  I’m smearing betadine on this mess.

Mom:  Are you bleeding?

Me:  Ayup – from multiple sites.

Mom:  Well, I guess its ok then.