c'est la vie

i should've known better. it was way too easy. she lulled me into a false sense of relief with her sneaky mother-like ways she's had 23 years to perfect, and i fell for it. like a sucker.

being the good daughter i am, i called her at the beginning of my lunch hour to reassure her that 1). my down payment was still in tact
2). my identity was not yet completely compromised
3). i had acquired a temporary debit card and could buy myself a pack of gum or shoe laces if i so desired

then out of nowhere she hit me with it: the guilt trip of a lifetime. she even pulled out the god card! "i keep reminding myself that the christian faith tells us that we disappoint god the father everyday, and he constantly forgives us. i'm just trying to remember that and apply it to this situation."

how does one respond to that?

i wanted to ask whether she had just compared herself to god, but thought it probably not wise. i also wanted to clarify whether i had gotten a tattoo or committed a murder or had an abortion. again, some part of me decided that would probably only lengthen this lovely lunchtime chat.

after we talked at length about the best way for me to break it to my dad, she seemed immensely cheered by the fact i had agreed to tell him in person. my assured suffering at the crestfallen look of my father seemed to ease her own pain at now having a daughter destined to work a life of non-profits. they don't allow tattoos in here.