Mother's Love XVIII

Hmm.

I suppose it's my fault once again that:

1. I didn't pack up my belongings which are strewn all over my desk.
2. My guitars are simply too loud for the comfort of my family.
3. My guitar tone is too sick for the comfort of my family.
4. I (once again) slept on a cushion without it's cover.
5. Pay from work has not yet entered my bank account.
6. My tips from work are unable to be claimed due to the cashier calling in sick and unable to hand me my tips.
7. The volume with which I listen to my headphones is too loud.
8. I'm sick of my mum talking about money every time I sit next to her, and therefore put on my headphones and turn on AC/DC.

Sigh... she just can't seem to get the idea of imparting family values (especially those regarding money) unto my pitiful self, out of her paranoid brain. I mean it's getting such a drag sitting down every morning and then she'll just start with her famous line:

"It's not that Mummy wants to nag, but..."

The rest is history.

Also, I suppose it's sort of becoming her favourite pastime, performing the hallowed witch-hunt every other evening by sweeping down upon my study table and proclaiming every offending article (for example, a slip of paper) a testament of hereticacy (if such a word, derived from "heretic", even exists).

I'll just be sitting there while she whacks away at me with her verbal version of her Bible aka "How to Ensure Your 17-year old Son Keeps His Table Tidy and will Bow Down to You and Lick Your Toes as Often as You Like")


Cheers,

Crawldaddy