The Rotten Apple Doesn’t Fall Far from the Tree

I spent last Thursday-Sunday in Chico to help my mom out after her shoulder surgery. The procedure itself went very well and her surgeon (who’s really cute so I’m glad I wore a dress and touched up my lip gloss) is happy about how she’s healing and said it went better than he expected. As much as I’d prefer to visit my parents under less-stressful circumstances, it was nice to get some alone time with them. I mean, I love that Ed gets along well with them and he’s clearly the son-in-law of their dreams, but there was something comforting about being our little three-person comedy troupe like when I was a kid. It didn’t take long for us to slip into old inside jokes and dated pop culture references. And my mom was in rare form, offering up some choice quotes.


  • “You look like a Mexican wrestler.” – Upon seeing me in a Tony Moly sheet mask
  • “Look, I’m a known entity so fuck you if you don’t like me.” – In response┬áto peer feedback at work
  • Dave: “What if use some Grecian formula?” Mom: “What if I Grecian divorce you?”
  • “Is he/she a millenial? I fucking hate millenials.” – In response to me telling a story about anyone remotely annoying
  • “Are you wearing sunscreen every day? You’re starting to look wrinkled.” – First thing in the goddamn morning, thanks

I really don’t have a point here other than documenting this for any future competency hearings and also to let you all know where I get this sunny disposition from.