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:)