Mom is weird...

...but I'm weirder.

(Quick backstory- Mom and Dad are moving from the 'hood to the 'burbs. INasmuch, they are in a mad dash to fight their pack-rat ways, and make the house "sellable" . I visit weekly to check their progress, and lend a hand. )

P- (noting a "Wig Head" just sitting on the corner of the floor.) "Hey ma, can I have that?"
Mom- "Why, you aren't gonna throw it away, are you"
P- "Why'd I ask for it if I was just gonna throw it away?!? Can I have it or not?"
Mom- "Sure. What'd you need it for? Are you gonna put a Darth Vader mask on it?"

P- (Taking a second to register what she just said.) Excuse me?
Mom-"I figured you'd put a mask or something on it. D.V. just came to mind"
P-"Ummmm. Wait, wha? Did you...Did I...?"
Mom-"Hon, just take it...I don't care."
P-"Ma, that's just really weird. I mean..."
Mom-"Why is that weird?"
(pause)
P- "Go and look outside in 2 minutes"

(Insert "Imperial March" here.)




So, I never told her that I bought a Darth Vader mask from job #2. What's more, she didn't know that was precisely why I wanted the wig head. It was, really, the 1st thing that popped in her head when I asked. My dad looked at us like we were crazy when we both started laughing at the Darth Vader mask, mounted on my car like a jerry rigged hood ornament.

Mom told me that we P's were a little psychic. Psycho or psychic...I can't remember which. Something about witchy-witch craft in the ol' Pennsylvania Dutch blood.