The memory of smoke

The memory of smoke

Sunday, January 30, 2011

When the teacher is lazy, the student just goes ahead.

So, my mother once complained about how I wiped crumbs from the kitchen table. "WHO taught you to do it that way?"

What I wish I'd said was, "Well, let's see, who was SUPPOSED to teach me? Oh, yeah, You were. Instead I made it up as best I could, and you bitch me out about it in a snide and backhanded snipe."


I cleaned my counters today.

No comments:

Post a Comment

I really don't want comments here. Deal.

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.