Talk About the Weather

Mom thinks it's her responsibility to inform me about the weather. It's like she has her own Doppler Radar.

I used to sit at a desk next to a 12-foot window--no exaggeration. So, if it was raining, sleeting, snowing -- I was very much aware. Even though mom knew this, she still felt (and still feels) it's her responsibility to send me weather reports.

Phone rings. I answer.

Me: Hello.
Mom: Nicole, it's ma. It's raining out. So be very careful when you leave work. The streets will be slippery.
Me: Really? Because I hear that's what happens when it rains. It tends to make things wet.
Mom: Don't get smart.