Thanks, Mom, for those two midnight phone calls in a row these past two nights. The first one, okay, maybe I was allowed because I was crying and you stayed up with me and just talked to me and that’s a very mom thing to do. Not all moms would do it but you did it. And it is kind of understandable that I called you.
The second midnight phone call in a row, though? Mom, I’m sorry.
I was just reading this mystery book that was scaring me a little (does it take much? are memories flooding back to you of my childhood of you crawling out of my room after I fell asleep so I wouldn’t notice?) and went to turn on my bedside lamp which happens to be the only light in my bedroom area because of the set up of the apartment and the lightbulb went out.
So I went looking for lightbulbs like the grown adult woman that I am and could not locate them. (For the record, I stayed calm which I think shows progress from when I was four and you had to crawl out of my room).
So I called you, because you were with me when I bought the lightbulbs, like the very non-adult girl that I am. At midnight. And you stayed on the phone with me until I found them.
I love you. I am sorry. Thanks, Mom. You’re very pretty.
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