Part of my daily morning routine is once I get my ass in work, I call my mom. This is so the woman doesn't think I lying in that famous ditch somewhere. We usually talk for a few minutes and they're always such uplifting conversations. They start the same way everytime.
"Oh good, you're there."
"How was the traffic?"
"How's the little princess?"
"As usual, good as gold."
"Oh God bless her. She's such an angel."
I normally roll my eyes into the back of my skull at this point in the conversation. This morning, though, mom had an addendum.
"You're so lucky to have a good girl like her."
"Eee-yep. Judging from what I see other parents go through, we won the lottery."
"You sure did. I mean, Dinks is so good in the car on such long trips everyday. And she has the sweetest disposition and a loving personality. I still wonder where she got it from."
Now, mom is laughing hysterically at her own humor. As you can gather by now, I was not. I know she means no harm. If taking a dig at her youngest and only daughter brings her a sense of accomplishment for the day, oh well, so be it.