Mother to da' hood.

I've posted this before. But I couldn't think of a better story to describe how frickin' cool my mom, Opera Mom, really is. 

When I was a little kid, Radio Active Slog (my twin brother) and I once had a hugeargument about cookies. They were chocolate chip, we had a huge plate of them andwe were sharing them. Oh, and they were imaginary.

We got into a fight about the imaginary chocolate chip cookies, because it took me three bites to eat each cookie, while it only took him one. I don't remember who started the fight, and why. Was it that my cookies were bigger? Was it that Radio Active Slog was eating more cookies? I may never know. But the way the story goes is that after hearing my brother and I fighting Opera Mom, our mother, took away the imaginary cookies, and the imaginary plate they were on, threw the imaginary cookies in the trash and put the imaginary plate in the sink to be washed later.

Thanks for not aborting me when you had the chance, Opera Mom, I love you!