Today was also Mother's Day, so I took my mom out for dinner at Big Jones. We ate pork belly, croquettes, gumbo, wreck fish, and of course desert. It was a great feast.
Sometimes or always, my mom isn't the best listener. She likes to interrupt and finish your sentences, which end up being different sentences than the ones you had started.
She asked about my new moustache.
"So what's going on with this thing?"
I told her I was going for a sort of Spanish look.
"You want to look like Jesus?"
No, I don't want to look like Jesus. I want to look like I'm on foreign currency-
"Oh, kind of an Abraham Lincoln look you're going for then."
No, that's American currency.
"Oh."
I don't want to look like Abe Lincoln or Jesus, I just-
"This gumbo is a little spicy."
Nevermind, Mom.
What are you going to do?
Verdict: Win
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