I don’t think that I would be betraying any deep, dark family secrets if I was to tell you that my Mom and I would have not always gotten along. She’d probably tell you the same thing herself. I’m not entirely sure where our problems came from or how they went away. But, years 13 through 23 of my life were a wee bit adversarial and then, after quite a bit of hard work on our parts, we figured out how to get along. And to communicate. 

And not just by reading each other’s blogs.

Although I’m sure that doesn’t hurt.

Where was I going with this? Oh, yes, one of the best things about moving back to Boston after college is finding out that I (*gasp!*) enjoy spending time with my Mother. I’m not sure how this works out for Kristian, as we end up going over there fairly frequently for dinner. But I sure as hell love spending time with my Mom and step-dad. 

Invariably, we end up riffing off of each other, making each other laugh until our sides hurt.

Ask my Mom to do an accent for you. If it’s not southern, she’s going to sound Russian. Comedy gold, let me tell you.

So that’s why, when we went over there on Sunday to drop off a table that they loaned us and a necklace that I made for her and I ended up leaving both the table (on purpose, too much snow out there) and the necklace (very much not on purpose) at home, it didn’t feel like such a big deal. Good lord that was a run-on sentence. But, still, not such a big deal. They made us tea, we ate some biscuits and we hung out for a bit. It was nice.

A girl could get used to this.