The time: Sunday at noon. The place: Greenwich Village. The medium: a cell phone call.
[mid-conversation, completely out of nowhere]
Mom: You should get a dog.
Me: I’m allergic, Mom.*
Mom: Well, yeah.
Me: There’s that. And the fact that I travel a lot.
*I have been aware of my allergy to cats since I was 11 and dogs since I was 12. I still lived at home then so she witnessed the results. There’s no denying she knows I’m severely allergic. She often suggests to Dad that they get a puppy, usually right after complaining that I don’t visit.
[don’t tell her that I totally stand outside NYC’s pet stores with cute puppies in their windows. It would undermine my bitchfacing her through the phone each time she annoys me.]