She kissed him goodbye knowing he wouldn't remember her by tomorrow. We will get to that part later. Fine, I gasp, exasperated. I do love my mother—deeply, truly—but she can be unbearably overbearing at times. It’s like living with a steamroller made of lace and unsolicited advice. She means well, I think, but she’s got her own... methods. Tonight, for example, she served eggs, bacon, and waffles for dinner. Not brunch. Not breakfast-for-dinner-as-a-fun-change. Just... dinner. And you know what? That’s our favorite. Mine, hers, and even Joseph's—back when he had the ability to chew.