My Thanks Tank is Full

I'm at my mom's house listening to her complain about the labor-intensive chore of making ready-bake cookies.

She's alternating that with saying things to the dog like "Have you ever seen a hammer, Coopie?" and "Get back here, shoe."

We spent twenty minutes this morning chasing the dog around the house.

Now she is talking about how pet birds self-mutilate.

I'm thankful for being in this family, no matter what insanity I inherited in my DNA.