Mom: Is it true your sister smokes weed?
Me: Yeah. Duh.
Mom: What problems could a fifteen-year-old possibly have that they would need weed for?! I NEED WEED TO PUT UP WITH RAISING THAT CHILD!
(Looking outside at lotus-type tree.)
Me: Hey mom, what's the name of that tree in our front yard?
Mom: I dunno, George?
Me: No, no, I mean the name of the type of tree.
Mom: You can name it whatever you want honey.
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