I was driving Bitchy back to her apartment tonight after an exciting afternoon of doing her LAUNDRY and I might have brought up the subject we never seem to discuss; her grades.
“So, how are your finals?”
“My finals aren’t cumulative, so it’s fine.”
“But how are your grades?” I asked, tentatively.
“The usual. Mom, why do you ask? You don’t really care.” She said in the kind of voice that reminded me about why I might have dubbed her Bitchy in the first place.
“WHAT? Of COURSE I care. What are you talking about?”
“Oh shush, mother. I meant that you love me anyway. Basically, you’re just happy I’m alive.”
And she NAILS the ending. (again.)