After such a long blogging silence, I feel like I need an icebreaker.
My favorite icebreakers are the questions that make people's eyes kind of bug out. I'm not really the gentle chisel and saw approach kind of person when it comes to ice. I like dynamite.
So a question I asked the Teacher this morning, which was completely out of any spoken context but made sense to my own convoluted way of thinking: "Why does a woman become a prostitute?"
So now that you know what my mother has to be ready for every day, here's my question for you: Aren't you glad you don't have to actually live with me?