The Mother/Daughter Relationship

I feel ill today—on the verge of puking every other second. Yet, I still made it to classes and to work. I’m very proud of my current Supergirl status, though I’d much rather be curled up in bed with someone taking care of me. Only there isn’t a someone in my life right now. Daisy with her lack of opposable thumbs is completely useless.

I can’t decide if I ate something bad, or if I’m still sick over yesterday’s lunch conversation with my mom:

Mom: “Do you want my tomatoes?”
Sarah: “No thank you. They are good for the prostate, but my non-existent one is fine at the moment.”
M: “Oh, they are? I’ll have to tell your dad. When I rolled over in bed….”
S: “MOM!! Please stop. I do not want to hear this. No way, no how. Just stop!”
M: “What? Anyway…”
S: “Mom, I’m not kidding. I’ll leave.”
M: “As I was saying…”

(At this point I was curled up in fetus position underneath the table. Okay that part isn’t true, but I did briefly consider it.)

M: “When I rolled over in bed I noticed a book on your dad’s side of the table. It was a prostate health book. See, it wasn't that bad. You're so weird about things.”
S: “Remind me why I meet you for lunch?”
M: “Because I pay.”

I know it’s selfish, but I just don’t want to hear this stuff. It was bad enough having my mom and cousin, both nurses, discussing labor and delivery. I can only assume they were trying to discourage the birth of my hypothetical illegitimate child.