Let’s Call It Even. Happy Early Mother’s Day?

I am currently without a car (take that, gas prices!) so my mom drops me at the subway station in the morning as a means of me getting to work in a timely fashion.

Yesterday, I made her late to work in the process because I got ready too slowly and she had to wait for me.

So as I was getting in the car to the soundtrack of her snipping at me, she, in her haste, accidentally started driving before I was fully inside, and I got mildly dragged about a foot.

I yelped in protest and she stopped the car with a gasp.

This event quickly changed the balance of power wherein I quickly became the victim and she the perpetrator. However, instead of taking advantage of my newfound success, I instead sympathized with her even further. I, the former irresponsible jerk, had quickly become the unlikely hero.

Even I couldn’t reap the entangled benefits of such a sordid state of affairs, and we both silently agreed never to speak of either event again.

Until now.

Ok, heads, you’re an insensitive lug. Tails, I am. Call it.
photo courtesy of Flickr and Micah Sittig