Helloooo, Irony! Where's Goldie?

"If I wanted your opinion, I'd take it from you." ~Sol Butcher

Today I went up to my parents house on my way to Girl Agents house. My mum had some stuff from my sis-in-law's mum, whom she is convinced is even crazier than she is, which I think is adorable. And, of course, remains to be seen.

W, sis-in-law's mum had made necklace's for both my dog, Moo, and my step daughter. My mum gave me both along with a book the she herself had picked up for Baby, and we had a brief review of Baby Momma's latest horseshit, white-trash antics.

At the end of it, my mum sighed and put her hand to her forehead. "Kage, you guys need to keep fighting for custody. That little girl doesn't stand a chance with a mum like that. If Baby Momma is her only influence, that Baby will be fucked up."

Ah, my poor mum, I thought as I murmured my agreement. She speaks the absolute truth, from her very heart, with absolutely no recognition of the fucking irony blazing brightly between her stated belief, and our own actual relationship.

She doesn't stand a chance. She will be fucked up.

No kidding.

Why couldn't you have thought of that thirty-one years ago?