me:  so i had a conference with my poetry professor.
dad:  did you tell him that it’s not poetry unless it rhymes?
me:  no, but i did tell him that i thought poetry was just skinny sentences.
dad:  how did he take that?
me:  he was all right, he said that us fiction majors are pretty interesting.
mom:  why don’t you just use some of your poetry from high school?
(at this point my dad and i exchange amused glances)
me:  uh, probably because it sucks.
mom:  no, i’m serious! it was really good!
me:  mom, nobody’s poetry is good in high school. besides, i don’t have that stuff anymore.
mom:  i do.
me (to my dad):  i don’t believe her.
dad:  you should. i bet she does have it.
mom:  i do have it. it was going to go in our book.
(at this point my dad and i exchange confused glances)
me:  ahem. our book?

(so apparently, my mother had decided long ago that she was going to publish a book of mother-daughter poetry, but she never told me about it.  my god, how embarrassing would that have been to have bad high-school poetry published?  not that it would have been published, but still…)