Did you miss me? I missed me, too. I’ve been in a zone, trying to finish my last class, beginning an exercise regime, playing poker (and losing money to donkey-fish), refraining from workplace violence. It’s a rough life I lead.

These are some snippets of convos (MoC’s new favorite non-word – my fave is still ‘conversate’) I’ve had with MoC in the last week.

This morning I tried to talk her into cooking breakfast, getting dressed, and driving 20 miles to deliver that breakfast. It was early in the morning so I thought I had an (unfair) advantage. I never have an advantage with MoC, unfair or otherwise.

Me (referring to work-stuff): I’m having a cow.
MoC: I’m having coffee.
Me: I’m jealous. And hungry. You could bring me breakfast.
MoC: I would have to get dressed.
Me: The Shrew brought me breakfast once. And she doesn’t even like me.
MoC: I like you. I love you. But I don’t have to bribe you.
Me: Ohhh. You are soooo good.
MoC: I’m gooder than you think I am sometimes.

Later, while I was still talking to MoC, the Shrew sent me an email. I read it – and got annoyed.
Me: I hate her.
MoC: Who?
Me: The Shrew. She’s such an ass.
MoC: Poof! She’s gone. She’s no more and you don’t have to deal with her anymore.
Me: Thanks, MoC. You’re the best!

Still in the same conversation (we didn’t talk all day – we just talk fast) …
MoC: My television doesn’t have a picture, but it has the blue tv guide bar thingie. I think the cable’s out. I hope that’s all it is. I do not want to buy a new tv.
Me: Sounds like it’s the cable. Turn off the television at the tv and turn off the cable box – but don’t use the remote.
MoC: Okay. I hate this. Back when they had radio programs, they were written so you could hear what was happening. But now they’re written so you can see what’s happening and if you don’t have a picture, you have no idea what’s going on.*
(a few seconds later) It didn’t work. I still have no picture.
Me: Did you use the remote to turn it off? **
MoC: No. You told me not to. I obey you.
Me: First my mother …then the worrrrld.

Me (leaving a voicemail because MoC screens her calls): I’m not leaving a message because you’re not the boss of me and you can’t tell me what to do.
MoC (picking up the phone): I stopped telling you what to do when you turned forty. You’re just now noticing?


Me: I’ve been hearing the new Miley Cyrus song lately. I really like it. I can’t believe I just said that.
MoC: We all have a cross to bear.
Me: She doesn’t sound like a 15-year-old. It’s a bubble-gum pop song, but I didn’t even know it was her until I heard her name*** in the song
MoC: Well, you’re forty-one. It’s not like you would be into that scene anymore. I’m seventy-one – everyone sounds like a kid to me.
Me: Wait.
MoC: What?
Me: Did you just drop the F-bomb on me? Again?
MoC: No, I didn’t.
Me: You just said …
MoC: I said you were fort…
Me: ACK!
MoC: Oh. That F-bomb.

Yeah, MoC. That one.

* I think that is an interesting observation. Everything is visual today – or it is in 10 second sound bites. There isn’t a lot of substance amongst the flash.

** It was the cable. It’s working now.

*** My best friend Leslie said ‘She’s just being Miley’