Joy’s Mom (calling from another room): “Would you come in here and hold it while I apply the Super Glue?”
Joy (wringing out and rinsing the sponges): “I need a noun.”
Mom: “Oh. ‘It.'”
Joy: “Can you be more specific?”
Mom: “Why—the thing that I’m gluing, of course.”
Joy (appearing in the kitchen doorway and reeking of ammonia): “Okay. Now you’re doing it on purpose.”
* * *
It’s nice to know that while I embellish dialogue with others shamelessly, the exchanges with my mother are generally given word-for-word, or darned close.
Light blogging for the rest of the day, since I have clientitis—the happiest disease on earth. (Yeech: I can’t even imagine what the comments are going to be on that remark.)
* * *
Oh, yes. One more:
Joy: “I’m taking this washcloth.”
Mom: “But I’m pretty sure there are clean washcloths in the other bathroom.”
Joy: “No, I’m not taking it into the other bathroom; I’m taking it home. It’s hot pink, so I want it.”
Mom: “Okay, that sounds reasonable.”
And there we have it: Joy and the logic of desire.
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
I have clientitis
Shouldn’t you see a specialist for that?
“I have clientitis”
Thank God for cashicillin, huh.