Awhile back, Mom and I were driving together…
Wait, let me start over. Awhile back, Mom was driving and I was in the passenger seat hanging on for dear life and crying from sheer terror, when we got stopped at a railroad crossing. As the train went by we could see various words and pictures that had been spray painted on the train cars. This sparked a debate over whether these colorful pieces of work were “art” or “graffiti”.
Mom: Look at that beautiful art work!
Me: That’s graffiti. Also known as vandalism.
Mom: That’s not graffiti, it’s art. Not everyone can do such good work you know.
Me: Clearly the vandals can. I wonder what their probation officer would think.
Mom: Lisa! If you look at the detail of…
Me in my mind while Mom is lecturing: I wonder if I could get Mom to buy me lunch. Eww, look at that dead racoon. I’m not that hungry anymore. Yes I am…
Mom: …then clearly you can see it’s art.
Just as Mom finished her argument, a train car with the gigantic word “PUSSY” tagged on it passes across our view. We watched in silence as it left our sight. Mom took a moment to regroup while we both tried to contain our laughter. I looked over at her with an expression that announced I had clearly won this argument, and I motioned with my hand towards the train.
Sarcastic Me: You’re right…there’s your freakin’ art!