Conversation With My Mother about Ceiling Fan

My Mother: Where are you going? Me: I’m on my way to Lowes to get a new ceiling fan.

My mother: Oh no... What happened?

Me: Well, at two in the morning I decided to turn off the fan at which point the light went on full blast and it woke up Brautigan who was very upset, yelling for the sun to go down, and then the fan started smoking and I must have dropped five f-bombs waiting for Chris to take the damn bulb out which was so hot he had to use a cloth, a cloth that wound up being Bruatigan’s brand new white training undies.

My mother: Oh, no... Well you listen to me, Jessica. You need to call that company first thing Monday morning and tell them that their fan almost burned your house down.

Me: Well I would, but I can’t find the receipt, so I’m not sure what to tell them.

My mother: Oh Jessica. If there is something to worry about, I can count on you to scour the universe and find it. Here’s what you tell them... You tell them that you shoved the receipt up your husband’s ass. Jessica... You don’t need to explain yourself to anyone. Just tell them you want your money back. That the fan almost caught on fire. And that you have a toddler. That’s it. Why on earth do you think the entire world is your jury?

Me: That’s a good point. I suppose you’re right.

My mother: Of course I’m right. So stop worrying about every goddamn thing. Or else you’ll have me to worry about. And you wouldn’t want that, would you.

Me: No, Mother.