One of my friends is about to move into a new apartment. I suggested the moving company I'd used twice in the past. They did a fine job for a decent price. And nothing got busted or stolen.
She stopped by today and told me that her grandmother is up in arms over hiring a moving company because they'll know she lives alone, they'll know what kind of stuff she owns, and they'll show up the day after she moves in and rape her and kill her and steal all of her stuff.
Because that's what grandmas do. They live to stir the shit.
Suddenly, I flashed back to the first time I used the moving company. My mom showed up to help me supervise and clean once the apartment was clear of furniture.
Oh, and to bring donuts, because my mom is the best. mom. ever.
When the movers were on a run down to the truck with a load of my belongings, mom motioned me over to the counter and, with a sideways glance, told me We're covered.
I looked at her and told her I had no idea what that meant.
Then she whipped a pistol out of her purse and waved it around with a satisfied smile.
WTF are you doing? Put that away before someone sees it! I told her.
She did, but she was definitely ready for any... funny business.
And that was the day I learned I had a pistol-packin' mama.
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