Man, moms are wild creatures. They got like this spidey sense about your whole entire self and it’s all mixed up with their fears and preconceived notions. And then you’re all like daydreaming about this other self, this super great, take-on-the-world self, and the purple notebook comes out. And there you are writing down your shit, not ’cuz your mom said so, but definitely ’cuz your mom blessed it so.
