i can't decide what to tell you about-- the crazy guy on the street that sells stuff, or mom. crazy guy. mom. mom. crazy guy. hmmm... okay, mom. here's a conversation i had with mom on mother's day:

mom: blah, blah, blah... decorating... casita...rustic... blah, blah, blah

emily: that's neat.

mom: i have a decorator, now. he's published and has abbreviations after his name.

emily: neat.

mom: i'm getting curtains for the library and--

emily: could you stop calling that room "the library"? it's not a library.

mom: yes it is so a library.

emily: there are no books in there. you own like five books. you don't have what you need
to qualify that room as "the library".

mom: well, i'm going to buy some books. anyway, i can call that room whatever i want.

emily: fine. call it "the library". oh, i've decided to call my kitchen, "the bathroom".
what do you think?

mom: i think you can call it whatever you want.

emily: why don't you call the room a spanish word, like you do for, "the casita"?
why don't you just call the room "la biblioteca"?

mom: you're tricking me. i bet that means "shit house" in english.

emily: i promise it means library.

mom: you're tricking me.

emily: maybe you should just buy some books. i'm going to eat a sandwich.

mom: bye.

emily: bye.