Jun 2, 2016
@toocritical. cont.
“Oh, Michael.” Lucille gives her son’s hand a (somewhat awkward) pat as the guilt-tripping waterworks slow to a stop. With a smile, she says, “I always knew there was a reason I liked you better than Gob.”
“—Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about the party?”
Absolutely not.
“Absolutely.” He’s got a reputation to uphold: third least favorite child. He’s willing to sacrifice his weekend if it means being on his mother’s good side for five minutes. “Of course I’ll come, mom, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” ( Milking it. )
