“Sarah, I think there’s a dead cat in the front yard.”
“Gross, Mom, why did you call to tell me this?”
“Because I just saw it.”
“That doesn’t mean I need to hear about it! Besides, I’m two hours away from you. I’m not sure what I can do to help.”
“I think maybe the dog did it, but I’m not positive.”
“Is there hard evidence it was the dog?”
“No, so it could have been the neighbor’s dog.”
“Mom, this is starting to sound like a country Clue board game and is sort of freaking me out.”
I still don’t understand the need for a dead cat phone call, but I’m grateful for every phone conversation I have with my mom.
I absolutely adore her.
So much that I would drive the two hours to her house just to clean up an animal carcass from her lawn. Actually I’d take it a step further: I love my mom enough that I’d call one of my brothers and have them take care of it. True love means loving my mom enough to not emotionally scar her only daughter.