nearly forgot

one day i was talking to my grandma and my great-grandma about food, and i described how excited i was that i’d made really good mashed potatoes the other week. they had both been looking away, but as soon as i said the word potato, their heads whipped in my direction and they said in unison “did you put them in ice water after you cut them?” it was so abrupt and sudden and in sync with each other that i felt like my life depended on the answer. that there was something more to the question that was remaining unspoken, some potato loving eldritch abomination was gazing at me through their eyes and waiting expectantly. i said yes, i had. they nodded to each other, pleased. the conversation ended. i lied. it was to save my life, but i will always put my cut potatoes in ice water now.

“well? is it a science?” “i... are you asking me a real question?” “yes, is biology an art or a science?” “that question makes no sense to me. just think about it for a second... it’s biology” “don’t get smart with me! just answer the question.” “it makes no sense to me that you’re asking that question.” “OMG I’M TRYING TO DETERMINE IF IT’S A BACHELOR OF ARTS OR BACHELOR OF SCIENCE” ”but... that’s not what you asked” ”jesus christ” “...i think it would be a bachelor of science, mom.” ”THANK YOU, WAS THAT SO HARD?!” but apparently a BA in biology is a real thing and i’m still autistic