He Wouldn't Approve

Me Mom and I have developed a few running jokes during our Sunday rides. One of them involves me brother Phil, who's her primary caregiver.

At least once over the course of a trip Mom will spot a party store and ask, "Should we get our liquor?"

"No," I'll answer, "Phil wouldn't approve."

Yesterday while caught at a traffic light, she saw a tattoo parlor. "Park over there," she commanded, a twinkle in her eye. "I want to get me a tattoo."

"Oh, no," I replied, rather overdramatically,  "Phil really wouldn't approve of that!"

We may have found our newest running joke.