My mom always insists that she hasn't been spoiled by suburbia, that she's still more city girl than circular driveway. Honestly, if there's any Boston left in her, it's strictly Beacon Hill; the woman shops almost exclusively at Talbots and calls a week without a manicure "really chaotic." She grew up in an Irish-Catholic home with a huge oil painting of the Kennedys on the wall and now secretly votes Republican. Don't get me wrong, she's an absolute love, but Dorie and I always delight in her unwillingness to admit that now she's much more "go children slow" than "checks cashed here."
Anyway, my dad is describing an apparently ginormous Christmas lawn decoration that features a snow globe with a penguin that rises out of it. He wants to get it; he says earnestly that it's "wonderful." Same man who came home with a snowman last year that sang and danced to "I'm a Snowman" to the tune of "I'm a Soul Man," which, I have to admit, was pretty freakin' hilarious.
Mom: If you put that thing on the lawn, so help me I'll call someone and have it taken right down.
[Hysterical laughter ensues.]
Mom: I mean, I'LL take it down! I'll take it down myself! I don't need to call anyone to do it! DAMN IT!
Thanks, weird penguin creation, for proving our point once and for all.