Sh*t my mom says

My mom is visiting.

We are sitting up, I’m “working” and she is flipping through Dance Magazine. I pull out some Halavah from the fridge for munchies/dessert (moms get 2 desserts). She has some, loves it, damns me for introducing it to her.

Then she remembers another delicious treat she once had in Reading (of all places). It takes her a minute to think of it and then…

“Bobka! That SHIT is the BOMB!”

And then as I cracked up, she went on and on about how delicious it would be with coffee…how you can get it in chocolate or cinnamon…oh my….


5 thoughts on “Sh*t my mom says

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