Mom, talking to frog hopping on pavement– “Aw, come here, little guy…cm’ere….OK, go on! Go on and die, you little bastard!….we need rain.”
Me, “Call that frog a bastard again, you might get it.”
Mom, “I believe I said ‘die, you little bastard.”
Me “Yeah…you did.”
Mom “I don’t see it anymore. It’s probably on the bottom of my shoe. He camouflages, you know. He’s pavement colored. Not because I smeared him, though. Just because.”