enthusiasm

I think my mom is slowly but surely dropping her cookies, if we pretend that cookies are representational of rational thought.

Today I reluctantly went with her to the book store, just for the sole purpose of stepping outside of the house for once. She wrote a check for the book she purchased, and then asked the guy behind the counter if her driver's license was required as well. He replied hesitantly that she could provide one if she wished, but that it wasn't necessary. Thus, she fished her wallet from her purse and began shuffling through the numerous cards.

Let's just say this -- she went friggin' psycho when she couldn't find her driver's license. The sadist in me took the opportunity to bust up laughing. I figured for all of the grief she's dealt me recently, chuckling in spite of her would serve as salve for the wounds.

She rushed over to kneel off to the side among an aisle of books, then frantically began rustling over and over again through her various credit cards. When she became absolutely horrorstricken, I asked her if I could have her wallet. She handed it up to me, and after less than twenty seconds of looking into pockets of her billfold, I found her driver's license.

She thanked me profusely. I don't think she's been that enthusiastic over anything I've ever done before.