My mother smiled as she asked, "Would you like to go to the Rolling Stones performance tonight?" In our living room, she had two tickets in her hand as she returned from work. Her brightly colored blouse showed off her long auburn locks. A pair of leather shoes sat atop a pair of slim-fitting slacks. I'd like to know... with whom? My response was measured. With me, you toad, you'll be OK. So, what if I say that's sufficient? " The tickets were slapped on my wrist by her. "Hmm... I guess... yeah, OK," I murmured as a teenager. My mother insisted on taking me to see the Stones, even though I'd never seen them perform live before. Cathy's perky grin turned into a sad one. "You don't appear to be in a good mood." Her crimson-colored lower lip was pierced by her little white teeth. "Yeah, that's a good point." She quickly tucked the tickets away in her handbag. "It's okay if someone else goes with me." "It'll be a lot of fun." I retreated to avoid missing the concert. The problem is that... " I'm aware of it. "Mom is a pain. I couldn't hide anything from her since she had a complete understanding of who I was. When I was 18 and she was 36, we were both still teenagers in some ways. She was the only one of my friends' parents who remembered what it was like to be a kid.....
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