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If I could change fathers, I'd definitely swap mine for Bob Costas.

Dave Harris once asked me what my parents did for a living. I told him that my father is an insurance agent and that my mother is a ceramics student at De Anza [community] College.

Dave replied: "Does your mom smoke pot?"

My mother called me last night. Actually, my little brother called me. My parents can't remember my phone number so they always make my brother dial.

Mother: Jon, I need your help.
Jon: What's up?
Mother: I need to write statements for these two pieces I made for class.
Jon: Statements?
Mother: Short commentary.
Jon: Okay.
Mother: The first piece is the bust of a naked woman with red flowers painted on her nipples. I call it "Tattoo".
Jon: T-A-T-U?
Mother: No… T-A-T-T-O-O.
Jon: Oh. Right. Haha.
Mother: My friend suggested "Floating Water Lilies" as a title, but I decided to call it "Tattoo" because nowadays, I see a lot of people with tattoos.
[pause]
Jon: …and you sculpted a naked woman and painted flowers on her nipples to show off a more "natural" beauty?
Mother: Yeah! Something like that.
Jon: Okay.
Mother: The second piece is an old mouse with grey whiskers sticking his nose up at people. I call it "Supermouse".
Jon: Uh… Why, exactly, is it super?
Mother: I don't know. I thought maybe you might be able to explain that.
Jon: Heh. Why don't you call it "Modest Mouse"?
Mother: Because it doesn't look modest!
Jon: The title is supposed to be ironic, mother.
Mother: I don't get it. Why must I call it "Ironic"? I like "Supermouse".
Jon: Fine. "Tattoo" and…"Supermouse". I'll see what I can do.

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