Daughter speak: Oh my God, Mom! Why did you write that post ? Now everyone's gonna think we did something terribly wrong! Like all those things that are on that list!
Me: Come to think of it, my dear, you and your sisters, collectively, have done all of those things on that list.
Daughter speak: No, Mom! No one's ever gotten a speeding ticket!
Me: Okay, that's called poetic license . . . because the term speeding ticket flowed a whole lot better than ticket for an illegal turn. . . It was still a moving violation!
Daughter speak: What about you? What about that ticket you got for parking in a fire zone?
Me: The one I got sitting in the running car while your sister ran in to get her precious latte at Dunkin' Donuts? Don't even get me started on that one. . .
Daughter speak: Well, don't you think Police Blotter's rather harsh?
Me: Again, do you like the sound of Summons for Underaged Drinking better? By all means, go ahead and replace it, but I think the word blotter followed quickly by the word bottle was a stroke of genius!
Daughter speak: But still, everyone must be wondering what we've done wrong in order for you to love us so much!
Me: You know? Come to think of it. . . I do too, my dear! I do too. . .
