Putting mother in the back seat

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I adore my mother.  She complains this year that I put in too many tomato, cucumber, eggplant, pepper and basil and parsley plants in her backyard; I tell her that she still has way too much grass.  While she says she doesn’t mind, in the end, she doesn’t water the plants in that quiet revenge that mothers are so good at.  She cooks good stuff for everyone and stuffs the kids with baklava, so no one takes the complaints too far.  It’s called love. 

Well, now, mother, whether you water the plants or not, you are going to have to sit in the back seat!  Seems that there is consideration being given to bill H 2361 requiring children smaller than 4’9″ sit in a booster seat.  In high heels, ma reaches 5’1″, so, given how young she looks, I am guessing she could get caught up here. 

No skin off my nose.  She pays attention to the kids and has forgotten how charming her son is (was?) anyway.  She’ll be back there with them, and I will have full control of the radio and the gas pedal.