Me (staring at a photo of Adriana Lima): "Oh look. It's your girlfriend."
M.O.M. (peeking over): "Damn. She's hot."
Me: "I don't know. I think Alessandra is hotter."
M.O.M.: "Nope. As usual, you're wrong."
Me: "It's just that, with Lima, she's almost too pretty. I don't know if that makes sense."
M.O.M.: "It doesn't."
Me: "It's almost too much. Like too aggressive and in your face. See, you're pretty-"
M.O.M. (holding up her hand without looking at me): "Let me just do you the favor and stop you before you go any further."
Me: "No, wait, let me finish my thought. It'll make sense, I swear!"
M.O.M.: "I'm pretty sure that you think that it will. But it won't make sense at all. So I'm just trying to help you out and stop you before the stupidity comes pouring out."
Me: "You're pretty too! But your beauty-"
M.O.M.: "But I'm not too pretty? Because that's the logical conclusion. Do you see that now? Do you see how I tried to help you?"
Me (suddenly nervous): "But that's not what I meant!"
M.O.M. (sighing and patting me on the shoulder): "You poor, poor man. It's never about what you actually mean. It's about what I think you meant."
- 5 seconds of silence -
Me: "I love you?"
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