Your mother sounds a lot like mine. You will appreciate this story:
I'm in a biker bar with my mother (as if that's not wierd enough in and of itself) and the guy at the table next to us lights up a joint (well, all I knew to start with was it was some sort of cigarette). Mom starts going on and on about how she hopes the smoke doesn't agravate my asthma. I take one whiff and go, "No, I'll be fine" But she won't shut up and keeps going on and on until we leave said bar and I say, "Mom, it wasn't tobacco" Then I had to explain how I knew.
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I'm in a biker bar with my mother (as if that's not wierd enough in and of itself) and the guy at the table next to us lights up a joint (well, all I knew to start with was it was some sort of cigarette). Mom starts going on and on about how she hopes the smoke doesn't agravate my asthma. I take one whiff and go, "No, I'll be fine" But she won't shut up and keeps going on and on until we leave said bar and I say, "Mom, it wasn't tobacco" Then I had to explain how I knew.
Yeah, moms.
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