Detente

I'm relieved by the time we get back to the more banal interrogation about my eating habits, but it doesn't happen right away.

Mom: Did you get that thing I sent you...
A.: I don't know.

I didn't say, "I don't bother with most of what you send me because you send me so much ignorant, conspiratorial crap."

But I digress. As I was saying, it was a relief by the time we got to this:

Mom: So you don't eat anything sweet.
A.: I eat fruit...
Mom: You eat... cranberries?
A.: Yes.
Mom: Apples?
A.: Yes. [I do not say, you've seen me eat apples every day].
Mom: But you don't eat grapes.
A.: I do eat grapes.
Mom: Oh. Well, then, it's all good.

Pause

Mom: You don't eat dairy.
A.: No.
Mom: That, I've read about. There are people that don't think dairy is good. You know, those people.
A.: There are various constituencies who aren't thrilled about dairy.
Mom: Fair enough.

I hope this newfound acceptance persists past the next time we come across a specific example of dairy that I don't eat. We shall see.