Sometimes, mostly on the weekends that I don't have my girls, I get down. And when I get down it gets ugly.
I eat things that are bad for me.
I watch movies that are bad for me.
I work out badly (meaning I sit on the excercise bike and don't bike)
I sit around a mope about all the stuff that isn't going well for me. (let's not review that right now).
THEN my mother invariably calls me. And begs me to come and see her and Dad (presumably to chat briefly before her bedtime at 8pm). THEN she makes my Dad call me to cheer me up (hard to do through a substantial mustache). And she tells me that she's praying for me and gives me the verbal equivalent of a band-aid with a kiss.
Fixes me right up.