I untie my cotton robe, a little hot all of a sudden. “What if I’m so awfully verbose and I annoy them?” My mom snaps a glare at me through the mirror. “You’re not too verbose. Your words are an asset.” She speaks like it’s written in stone and blood and all indelible things. “And if they don’t like you, then that says more about them than you.” I love that she doesn’t tell me they will love me and give me a false sense of confidence. She lays battle armor on my shoulders.
