mom, unplugged

Alternatively titled: Further proof that this (points to self) is all genetic.

Mom: A whole bunch of birds were found dead on Congress street yesterday morning. Dozens and dozens. Same day as your “weird odor” in Manhattan. And barn owls dying in droves in Idaho. And Stephen Hawking suddenly deciding to go up into space. I think it’s time to get out…

Heather: Yes, but out to where? Space with Hawking?

Mom: Hmmm… You have a point. He is a little strange.

Heather: And can you imagine the conversation we’d have to suffer? I know THIS about space and I know THAT about black holes. Shut UP already, Stephen Hawking! We get it; you’re SMART! Jeez.

Mom: Well, the nice thing about conversations with Mr. Hawking would be, that if we got tired of it, we could unplug him.

Heather: â€_

Mom: I don’t mean his LIFE SUPPORT! Just his talking tube!

Heather: â€_

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