It's all for show

I'm feeling a lot better, thank goodness, but I'm still kind of achy. So naturally every day I drive to my mom's house, let Ethan get all up in her business while she's trying to work hang out with her for a little while, and I take a bath in her garden tub.

Since we don't have TV, and tonight's Monday Night Football game has serious fantasy football repercussions for Noah and me, we invited ourselves over gratefully accepted my parents' offer to come over for dinner and a little tube time. I should have known there would be strings attached.

Once we were all seated at the table, Mom opened up conversation by looking at my dad and asking, "Do you know what SHE did today?" I, for one, had no idea. It turns out that the lovely fresh towels hanging on the rack NEXT TO HER SHOWER do not count as actual towels. No, instead they're props in an elaborate ruse, one that is meant to convince people that all my mother's towels match and are of high quality.

I guess being berated for using the Show Towels isn't so bad when considering in mixed company she often refers to my dad as The Cook. Now I know why my late grandfather referred to her as Lady Sketrick Island.