“Hello honey, how was your night?”
“Pretty good, I’m really tired though.”
“Didn’t you get any sleep at Froggy’s?” I think it’s a little odd that my mother calls all my friends by their nicknames.
I paused, blanking for a second, “Oh um, no, we sort of, uh, well, watched alot of movies and stuff.”
“Well, why don’t you go get some rest then.”
“Um, Ok.”
I love my mom, really. But she’s a little clueless sometime. She really thought I stayed out all night on homecoming because I was ‘sleeping over at Froggy’s.’ Who falls for that? It’s not like I did anything, but still. She’s an ‘artist’ and she’s really distracted and scatterbrained a lot of the time.
My dad on the other hand is a high excutive at work, and isn’t really that interested in me at all. He knew about Blake but he didn’t even ask to meet him or do the whole, ‘if you hurt my daughter I’ll kill you’ routine that most Dad’s do. Basically, I do whatever I want. Fortunately fo them, I’m a goody-goody or I’d be a total space case by now.