Ruminations of an Afterlife

I went out drinking with my Mum last night. Well, 'drinking' meaning we each had one because I'm not here to get pissed and she's 76. I'll tell you what, though, Lavinia Littleton is a hellcat! She got like 4 phone numbers...which I am disturbed by, but you know...cest la vie, right? Anyway, we had a fantastic time even though she made me dance with her and then people kept saying things about 'boytoy' and so she told everyone proudly that I was her son. And then she smacked my arse, to leave them wondering if she was lying or not... My mum is so cute.

Then we were arguing about who was more attractive, the boy playing guitar or Daniel Craig. She has this James Bond thing. And the argument dissolved in to silliness.

Thomas: What would you know, you had them put a cherub on my headstone. (I can imagine that might have sounded strange to people...)
Lavinia: It was that or a weeping woman.
Thomas: Mum! Weeping woman! Always weeping woman! No one needs naked fat baby angels on their headstone! They creep me out!
Lavinia: I know! It was to get back at you for dying!
Thomas: Oh right.
Lavinia: And that's only because they wouldn't put a stonecutting of greenbeans on there.
Thomas: GAH! Evil woman!
Lavinia: You deserved it! I went through 47 hours of labor for you!
Thomas: Yeah yeah.
Lavinia: And when you came out, you tore my-
Thomas: NO! NONONO! YOU WIN!

And then she did a victory dance and said that works everytime. She, she IS evil. I am Spawn of Evil.