So it all started when Becca had a friend named Destiny. I would hear someone at our front door and I'd say, "Becca! Destiny's knocking!" Then I'd laugh and laugh. And she'd stlower at me (that's across between a stare, a glare & a glower, you know). As always, I took the joke too far, what with "Destiny's calling", "Have you touched bases with destiny today?", and, my favorite, "Did you live up to destiny's expectations today?"
Eventually, we grew tired of the Destiny jokes. I mean, they never got old for ME, but Becca threatened to run away from home if I didn't stop saying, "Your destiny sure knows how to keep you in line."
But now. Oh now I have a new and horrible way to torment the Becca. She came home from school with "I Love Jesus" written on her arm. Don't ask me why. She's 14. Anyway, I said, very sternly, "I don't think it's appropriate that you have I love Jesus written on your arm, since everyone knows it's supposed to be written all over your face." And then I laughed and laughed. And she stlowered at me. Oh, the jokes go on and on: Becca, were you touched by Jesus today? Should I call the police? etc....
Before you decide I'm the worst mother ever, know this: Becca always gets me back. One time, she switched all the dustjackets on all my books around so my entire bookshelf was TOTALLY wrong. It took me several tries to finally figure THAT puzzle out. And another time she glued the ends of the toilet paper roll so I couldn't unwind it. I struggled for many frustrating minutes to figure that out, as well. Good thing it was after the "fact" so there wasn't too much "urgency".
Oh, we go back and forth, do Becca and I. ChiChi says she's my payback. For what, I've never known. I do NOT remember EVER messing with my mom's toilet paper.