My mother’s internet date. New York Times Sunday Magazine.
“I told you to join a gym,” I said, twisting up my smile, “and to stop drinking those dreadful shakes.”
She frowned. “I don’t even want to look.”
“I think what is going on here is that you’re holding onto an outdated residual image of yourself,” I quipped.
“What?” she asked, crunching up her face with annoyance. “Please don’t be an idiot. Not now.”
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/18/magazine/18lives-t.html?_r=1
