Mama: So how long are you going to be here?
Me: Probably a year.
Mama: All your friends will be sad when you leave. Time is precious.
Huh? I guess…
Mama: What’s with that look?!
Me: It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.
Mama: Tell me!
Me: You’re choice of words was kind of heavy, made me wonder if there was some kind of hidden meaning.
Mama: No hidden meaning, I’m just saying we should do nice things to each other before you leave!
Cue uncontrollable laughter.
Mama: (mimes a gun and shoots me)
Me: …did you just shoot me?
Mama: Are you unhappy that I shot you?
Me: …is there a reason I should be happy about it?
Mama: Why do you turn around everything I say?!
Me: I just don’t think being shot is a happy experience.
Mama: It’s because you were laughing at me!
Me: So that makes it OK to shoot me?
Mama: You think shooting someone is bad?
Me: …yes. Yes I do.
Me: If you have to ask that, I don’t think I can explain it to you.
Mama: People in China shoot each other all the time!
BRB, escaping from China.