Me: Which one?

Mum: Oh he's waaaay too young for me. I meant the M&M's he was eating.

Me: Mum, I was asking about the candy. One bloke is working on the chocolates, and the other is eating that sour-gummie thingy. Get your head out of the gutter!

Mum: Oh, I never noticed the other one was eating candy too, and besides, you know I don't like sour stuff.

Me: Actually, no, I didn't.

Mum: I love chocolate.

Me:Whatever. You should have just said 'That chocolate candy looks good.'

*silence*

Me: Nevermind, that one was bad as well.

Mum: Uh, yeah.

After I had overcome the shock of what happened, and the morphine had worn off, I was able to sit and reflect about it all. From my calm, zen state of reflection, I had come to realise three things:

1. My mother knows my mentality too damn well.

2. Morphine turns me into an angelic soul.

3. The effects of morphine can then be countered when one's mother then reminds the person of their normal mentality.

Makes one wonder if God wasn't the one who invented the damn stuff. Then again, if he did, church goers must be secretly injecting morphine in their 'prayer closets'.