last week i met my mom in a parking lot to pass over some things. i had to go to a grocery and a hardware store, and my mom wanted to buy me some pants that were on sale. and we each had things to transfer from hand to hand, so we decided to meet in a parking lot near our respective errands.
i was wearing an orange turtleneck.
my mom and stepmother commented on what a nice color it is for me.
"oh, don't you remember why i have this shirt?"
neither of them did.
and i told them the story of that time my mom asked me if i needed any clothes or anything and i said that i needed an orange turtleneck to hang in my closet between the yellow shirts and the red shirts because why, yes, i DO hang my shirts in order of spectrum and instead of telling me she wasn't going to support or enable that nonsense, my mom bought me an orange shirt.
i wear it sometimes.
then we had a short conversation about pants.
and when i got the things i needed at the hardware store, the young man who had helped me out was at the register and there was a woman there talking to him about pants.
i said it sounds like a mom conversation. they laughed. i said i had just come from almost exactly that same conversation, only different pants.
"oh, with your son?" the woman asked.
"no, my mom."
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