Mother

Mother called this morning with complaints about her hemeroids. those calls are always rough ones indeed. listening to her one hundred and two year old ass sagging the way it does, mother's voice becomes a shrill distant whine, a voice that can only be heard by god and the dog next door which starts to howling once her tears hit the pillow case. all the same, I'd rather be getting calls from mother than having to swab down her ass.