Well. I was reprimanded for something interesting today. You know those picture holder things with the weighted base and a clip on a flexible wire? The clip holds the picture, and the base says something like "Butler Fall Ball 2004" on occasion?

My mother threw both of mine out, and told me never to bring drug paraphernalia home again. When I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, she told me she found two roach clips in my boxes from college. When she described those, I tried not to laugh at her, but I knew that laughing would only make it worse.

She told me that even though she knew I didn't know what they were (because God forbid they be for photos), if the military ever found out that shit was in this house, Mitch could be court-martialed. She said that she didn't tell Mitch what she'd found, she just threw them away. But if he'd known, he'd have been pissed and would have kicked me out of the house. (Which is just her trying to give us a common enemy to get me on her side.) Right.

"And it's not because we don't love you or anything like that, but we can't have these in our house. Don't ever bring drug paraphernalia home again."
"Wait, what? Where did that disclaimer come from?"
"Well, I don't want you to think that we don't love you or I'm just being mean about this, because I know that's how it must seem."
"Well, at the beginning I thought you were accusing me of smoking pot, but after that... that wasn't the conclusion I came to."
"No. I know that you aren't into all of that. [author note: Feel free to cast detect bullshit right about here.] But I was there in the 60's and 70's when all these came out, and that's what those are."
"Okay."
"Just don't bring drug shit home ever again."


Seriously. For fuck's sake.

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