Tuesday, December 11, 2007
An Understanding of Sorts
My mother does not understand. She really doesn't. She cannot understand why I do not hesitate to eat crumbly food over a recently vacuumed floor.
I do not understand my mother. I really don't. I cannot understand why the sight of crumbs on a recently vacuumed floor tortures her as it does.
And so, over time, we've come to a sort of understanding that we will never understand each other:)
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3 comments:
It's almost like sushi and when it explodes in your room.
Madd....I can hear you speaking much louder than the lighthearted way you wrote this...
(((hugs)))
apple-um...is there a story you were supposed to tell me first?
CP-Thanks, you're the best:) I actually feel more resigned at this point than anything else. it's rarely ever any more than annoying:)and i think a lot of mom/daughter relationships are similar in that they're very diff. ppl. trying to get along.
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