I love my mother. I do. She has her little quirks, though. For instance, she "doesn't know how" to pump gas. Literally, she doesn't ever do it. My dad takes her and fills her car up weekly... or as needed. Obviously, we give her a little hell for it on the regular. So, while my mom and I were in Bloomington visiting my rehab-ridden-grandma, I knew I would be on tank duty. My mom pulled into a gas station and tried to nagivate her way up to the pump, totes preoccupied with the task at hand. ("Is my gas tank on this side, Amber?!") Well, I wasn't paying attention, because I was in hysterics when I saw this place of business: Doggie Styles: A Canine Salon. So, I was all, "Mom... do you see that?! That is so funny !!" And she wasn't really paying attention, because it's "hard" to pull up to a gas pump. So, she giggled in agreement... and I still couldn't stop howling. "Mom, that pet groomer is called Dog...
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