We Need to Talk: It's a Dog

Mom texted me we need to talk and my stomach dropped. I spent the entire drive home running

through every possible thing I did wrong. Did she find my report card? Did someone snitch

about the party? My palms were sweating when I walked in. She was sitting at the kitchen table

with this serious face and I genuinely thought my life was over. Turns out she wanted

to talk about getting a dog. A dog. I had been stressed for two hours over

a golden retriever puppy. She looked at me confused why I was so pale and I just

laughed it off. Now every time she says we need to talk I ask if it's good news or bad

news first.