One day– I’m not sure when and I’m not sure how– but ONE day, I will tell my mother I am going on vacation and she will not immediately, as if it is the world’s most novel and sage advice, remind me to pack a sweater because “it might get chilly at night.” One day she is just going to trust that after 32 years of being her daughter, and 32 years existing as a human on this planet, and 32 years of experiencing all the things that even the most basic-functioning of humans experience (like weather) I will be able to determine, on my own, that no matter where in the world I might go, there will always exist the danger of that nighttime chill.

Me (after said sweater reminder): “Yup. Got it.”
Mom (sensing exasperation): “You’re not going to post about this are you?”
Me: “I most definitely am.”
Mom: “Aw, shit.”