If This Isn’t PMS, Next Week Is Going To Be ROUGH.

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My daughter, the soon to be fifteen-year-old, texting me from drama camp…  Note: my daughter and I both have very similar senses of humor, and she knows I think she’s amazing, so don’t send me crazy messages about how we call each other names…we like it…it works for us.

Caolinn: Mom…Mom…Mom

Caolinn: Mom.

Caolinn: MOOOOOOMMMMM!!!

Me: For the love of God, what!?

Caolinn: Pizza Hut took the cookie pizza thing from the Domino’s ad and made it into a thing and I need it NOW.

Me: Ha ha!

Caolinn: Mom, I actually need it. Please take me to get one and I’ll give you ALL MY QUARTERS.

Me: Define “need”.

Caolinn: Need as in I’ll die if I don’t get it.  I will legitimately cease to exist.

Me: I’ll think about it, freakshow.

Caolinn: I’m not a freakshow, I’m a trendsetter, Mother, and I’m also hungry and it’s a goddamn cookie pizza.  How do you not see how IMPORTANT this is!?

Me: Jesus Christ…fine…I’ll get you the cookie pizza.

Caolinn: OH MY GOD!!!  I CAN’T EVEN…I’M SO EXCITED THAT I’M HYPERVENTILATING.

Me: I think when you get home, we need to discuss the impact that drama camp is having on you, and whether this is a good thing for you to be in, or not.

Caolinn: Can’t…breathe…so….happy…

Me: *sigh*