I’ve been at home for about a month now, after my year-and-change in New York. I really miss New York, but the first night I came home, this conversation happened over dinner (in Farsi, which made it even better):
Me: Maman, why is there a bong in the china cabinet?
Mom: What is a bong? That is a piece of antique glass art that I found.
Me: That big glass thing next to the ceramic pitcher? That’s definitely a bong, and people use it to smoke pot.
Mom: It had some brown stuff in it, but I put it through the dishwasher.
Me: Wow.
This is way better than the time she over-lamped and set the couch on fire, and almost as good as the time she called the fire department because the house had filled with thick black smoke because she’d forgotten she had something cooking in the oven… and it has really set the tone for my time here before I move up to San Francisco, in all the best ways possible.
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maybe your mom is just preparing for your move up to norcal…
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