The phone rings last night.
"Did u get my e-mail?" she asks, excitedly.
I check. It's a job opening.
"How many times do I have to tell you, thanks but no thanks," I say, repeatedly, during the 20-min convo about why I should move on (aka back home).
A glass of wine later, the headache she caused begins to fade.
24 hours later, it comes back, with the announcement of industry-wide downsizing.
Hmmmm... Is this a sign, I wonder? Or just a coinkydink? because I HATE it when MOM is right!
How do you fend off MOM attack? You know those Sat. 8 a.m. phone calls, when she wants to know if you're eating your carrots and making your bed?