“No mom, I can’t. You just ate my imagination.” Flora answered.
“My ears are fat too.”
“Mom, I thought the therapy you attended changed you but I was wrong. You are still the same.”
“It was in Mexico and in Spanish, I never understood anything.” Betty breathed heavily.
“I knew you’d find an excuse.”
“My skin feels like it’s ripping, these babies are so big and the house is a wreck.” She cupped her breast with her hands. My hair is greasy, haven’t found time to go to the salon.”
“You can go now…I’m leaving in the afternoon to see Julie, my friend from high school.”
Flora sagged like she was a drunken rag doll against the back of the seat.
“Mom, you look perfect. You can always get a job and work like normal people.”
“I have a job, the coffee I drink don’t make itself.” She held up the coffee mug.
“Great, at least blind people would know that you have a fake job.” She smiled at Betty.
“I know you’ll throw a party when I die.”
“No mum, I’m not that heartless. I love you that’s why I’ll twerk on your grave.”
“Whatever, I’m going to read in the tab.”