She called tonight. My mother had enough, so she called me. It lasted an hour. By the way, she wants to visit next week and take Baby Shagari to the zoo, so if you want to see her up close and personal, it's your chance.
I digress. Last week one of my middle school classmates passed away. (His name was Rufus. It's okay to think that's funny.) Since I was already at the funeral home, I asked the funeral director about it. The services were delayed because the state medical examiner had to be involved. Rufus (the name is still funny) hung himself. Despite the name, it's very tragic. Tonight, cray-cray was telling me how she's pretty sure her baby daddy killed Rufus. I told her about my conversation with the funeral director. She is undeterred. I suppose the state medical director is mistaken and her baby daddy is a high-school drop-out/evil genius. Who knew?
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