Crumbs In Bed and Other Things My Mother Hates

I am under the covers in my bedroom.

I love this room.
When I moved in it was a small gray-lavender cave.
Its amazing what a little bit of paint can do. TheBean and I painted it a sunny yellow color in the space of an afternoon. We discovered that I'm a terrible painter, but TheBean kept accidentally painting the ceiling, so she didn't have much room to criticize.

Anyway, I'm in my bed, on my laptop.
I love my laptop.
I named it. I only name the things that I truly love.

And I'm eating. Some people (my mother in particular) will tell you that eating in bed is bad. Well I am here to tell you that just isn't so.

She says that a bedroom should be a sanctuary, away from the stress of the day. No food, no animals, no street clothes in the bed, etc.
I get that.

But this bed is my sanctuary, and tonight there are Girl Scout Cookies in my sanctuary.

Mommo has always been funny about little rules like No Eating In The Car! and Absolutely No Shoes On The Carpet! It was the big things like the curfew I never had, and the alcohol I drank in high school that seemed to just... slip past her. We were like two strangers living closely intersecting lives.

Its bizarre to watch her helicopter TheFish. TheFish and I talked about it recently; we have completely different parents, yet they're the same two people. My mother was vague and disconnected, hers is neurotic and overprotective.
I don't really know which is worse.

Don't get me wrong. Mommo is lovely and intelligent and stronger than she knows. We're just incredibly different people.

Over the past two years, Mommo and I have stumbled into a strange sort of relationship. Its not quite mother-daughter, but its not just a friendship. Maybe its because I'm already an adult? Or because we emotionally abandoned each other during my formative years?

I guess it doesn't really matter.
Either way, I'm going to eat cookies in my bed.