Conversations with THE MOTHER

So, I'm talking to THE MOTHER over the weekend.  We are known for our vast and varied conversations, but this weekend's eleven minute phone call (by far one of our shortest) takes top honors for BEST CONVO EVER.

Here's the long and the short of it:

We're about five minutes into the call in which we've already discussed my dad's upcoming surgery, his dentist and now we're into the pros and cons of quilting...

THE MOTHER:  I've always wanted to get into quilting, but I need to get a sewing machine cuz I can't thread a needle by hand.

ME:  That's funny.  I'm the exact opposite.  I have no problem with threading a needle, but I can't use a sewing machine because I can't seem to figure out threading that damned bobbin.

THE MOTHER: Oh, I've never had any problem with that.  In fact, when I was in high school Home Ec, I was the only one in class that could thread the bobbers.

ME: *laughs* Bobbin.

THE MOTHER: Yeah, the bobber.  So, I always had to thread everyone else's bobbers.

ME: *still laughing* It's called a bobbin, Mother.

THE MOTHER: That's what I said, the bobber.  Oh, and speaking of t-shirts(sidenote: we actually were talking about t-shirts...like right before the whole quilting thing so, yeah, speaking of), you know that Walking Dead SURVIVOR shirt your brother got me when we were up in Michigan?  You would not believe how many comments I get on that shirt.  Every time I wear it, someone asks where they can get it.

ME: I'll bet.  I like that shirt, too.

THE MOTHER:  In fact, I wore it the other day and this guy stopped me to ask what it meant.  He'd never seen the Walking Dead before.

ME: What do you mean he'd never seen the Walking Dead?  Does he live a under a rock?  On Jupiter?

THE MOTHER:  I told him that he should just watch the show and that he'd understand what my t-shirt meant.

ME: You could've just told him that it simply means you survived the zombie apocalypse.

THE MOTHER: Yes, I could've but I can't say that word.

ME: Zombie?

THE MOTHER: Appopoclips.

ME: *laughs* Apocalypse.

THE MOTHER: Acopolis.

ME: *laughs harder*

THE MOTHER: Apopoleptic.

ME: *gasping for breath*

THE MOTHER: I told you I can't say appopoclips. *turns from phone to yell at the father* Your daughter is laughing at me.

ME:  *still laughing* Then, why do you keep saying it?

THE MOTHER: Appoclips.

ME: *deep breath* Did you want to hear about my lumpy dog?

That's about as subtle a shift in conversational direction as I was capable at that point.  From there, we discussed our dogs, ear mite medicine, and my impending trip up to visit the old folks.

Here's to hoping the zombie apocalypse doesn't begin before I see them next as THE MOTHER won't be able to properly forewarn me.