So moma came in my room talking at a level ten (completely uncalled for) and telling me what to do and who to help and where the table is going to be and the color of underwear I should be wearing for Kelly's birthday celebration.
I wake up, see Amy with her ice cream bar, point at her, say, "Good idea." and grab my own. Then we convene upstairs to wrap Kelly's gifts, one of which is a smiley bra marked 36C. I'm pretty sure moma only got this because it goes along with her smiley-face theme, because Kelly isn't a 36C. You know how I know? Because there's another bra too, marked B.
Flashback: One Christmas, I really wanted my own pet horse. I thought, I could keep it in the yard and ride it everyday. How great. On my Chirstmas list, I clearly wrote out, "HORSE." On Chistmas Morning, I opened my presents, one of them being a plastic horse for barbies. I was upset. I know they knew this isn't what I meant, so why? Oh, thanks for the crappy plastic horse I never wanted when you could have just not gotten me a live one and left it at that. Moral: this isn't the first time moma has completely ignored what we ask for and gotten us something she likes in its place.