This is the opening line of a complaint letter my mother addressed to a certain hospital in 1990 after my grandmother received some 'poor service' during her stay. This makes me understand where I get not only my personal brand of snark, but, my use of ironic quotations.
The story is old (nineteen years old, to be specific) and permeates the context in which I was raised. My grandmother died of cancer in 1991 and that's all you need to know in order to understand that my young life was never the same from that moment on. The most important lesson this life has to give is Honor Thy Mother, even when she's being over-the-top ridiculous or when she relinquishes all future complaint letter writing duties over to you when you're only 12 years old.
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