shit my parents say

my mom’s sweater is ripped.

mama: “don’t tell papa, or he’ll have to fix it before we go” (earlier my shirt was too wrinkly so he made me take it off so he could iron it)

papa notices, my mom won’t let him fix it

papa: “well don’t move that arm then”

mama: “it’s a hipster hole”

papa: “just staple it”

papa: “fine, you look like a rag”

To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one’s self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived—this is to have succeeded.
—  Ralph Waldo Emerson