My mom came into my room and asked what I was having for dinner.
Me: I don't know, I was thinking a pita with hummus, spinach, and mushrooms.
Her: Or you could have that salad with cranberries that we have.
Me: I don't like salad.
Her: It's funny, because Paul from work is a vegetarian, and he doesn't like salad either, but he does like croutons.
Me: Does Paul eat fish?
Her: No, he doesn't eat meat, fish, poultry (WHEN will people acknowledge that dead birds and fish fall under the category of meat?), or eggs.
Me: ...There's usually fish in croutons.
Her: He's not a vegan like you are!
Me: You just said he didn't eat fish...
Then, she storms out of the room and proceeds to come back with a bag of croutons and reads the label to me, triumphantly exclaiming that there's no fish. Then, she says that "all" that was in the other one was anchovy powder. I wonder, would people think it so inconsequential if that powder was made from, say, a dog? Probably not. In any case, all I was trying to say (and I told this to her as well) was that he was probably unaware that he was eating fish (however small an amount) each day for lunch, and that, if I were him, I would be very grateful if someone were to point this out to me.
I love my mother, and she's incredibly supportive of my veganism and everything. In fact, she's taking me to this little vegetarian cafe for lunch tomorrow. Sometimes, though, she is also immensely frustrating, especially when she misconstrues what I'm trying to say.