tonight my mom called me -- slightly buzzed on her blush wine -- and told me all about her Easter Sunday.
it started w/ the church service and how she's thinking about defecting to the Presbyterians. then, it somehow progressed into a story about her lesbian friends hitting on her and trying to get her in a bathing suit (a bit of background: my mother is 61, married to a man and, frankly, brimming with naivete). something about feeling uncomfortable in a room alone with a wolf-tattooed lesbian discussing an oil painting ...
anyway, she then goes into how many "points" her wine is costing her tonight so it's good that she didn't eat a huge dinner (she made a full-on turkey dinner for the 3 of them). and, she tells my uncle mark, she's not counting the rice she ate last night b/c that shot right through her, so how could it have counted and left any fat/calories in her system? i can only hope uncle mark had smoked his Easter doob before hearing that one.
christ is risen. happy easter.
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