Thursday, May 11, 2017

Mixed Up Words

Mom: "I need $3000 to pay for my assassination."

Me: "Your assassination?"

Mom: "I mean my funeral! When are the paleontologists going to arrive?"

Me: "The paleontologists? You mean the palliative care specialists."

Mom: "Yeah."


Me: "My mom wants a curbside service."

Will: "A curbside service? Like a drive thru? Like, go pick up a cherry limeade and whisper into the microphone, 'give us all the cherry limeades you have!'"

Me: "Graveside service. I mean."

I'm turning into Mom.