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You ever notice how every family has that one person who thinks they're the boss of everything? In my family, we call her "Mother Superior." I mean, seriously, she acts like she has some kind of superhero powers. You know, the ability to detect a messy room from a mile away and the super strength to make you clean it up with just one disapproving glance. I swear, if there was a Marvel movie about my family, she'd be the Mother Avenger with the power of the "Epic Eye Roll." But the real superpower? Guilt. She can make you feel guilty about things you didn't even know you were supposed to feel guilty about. "Oh, you didn't finish your peas? Well, I guess I'll just sit here in disappointment while you eat your dessert." It's like having a guilt-tripping Jedi in the house.
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Let's talk about Mother Superior's cooking skills. Now, I don't want to say her cooking is bad, but the last time she made spaghetti, the tomato sauce looked like a crime scene. I mean, I had to call in CSI to analyze the spaghetti stains on the walls. It was like the spaghetti had a vendetta against the kitchen. And don't even get me started on her secret ingredient – love. Yeah, I'm pretty sure love is not supposed to taste like burnt rubber. I once asked her for the recipe, and she said, "First, you burn the garlic. Then, you accidentally add salt instead of sugar. And finally, you let it simmer while questioning your life choices." Ah, the secret recipe for disaster.
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You would think that with all her years of experience, Mother Superior would have mastered the art of technology. Nope. She treats every piece of technology like it's a Rubik's Cube that's actively plotting against her. I once caught her arguing with the microwave because it refused to defrost her chicken in 30 seconds. I mean, really, who does she think she is – the Terminator? And when it comes to smartphones, forget about it. I tried to teach her how to use emojis, and now every text message ends with a string of random symbols that I'm pretty sure are not part of any known language. But hey, at least she's got the basics down – like accidentally FaceTiming me while she's still in her floral muumuu. Thanks for the nightmares, Mother Superior.
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Mother Superior also fancies herself as a fashionista. I swear, she could give Anna Wintour a run for her money – if Anna Wintour had a thing for floral muumuus. You know those big, flowy dresses that make you look like you're trying to smuggle a small family under your clothes? Yeah, those are Mother Superior's go-to fashion statement. And her advice on fashion is legendary. "Honey, black is slimming. Just wear black from head to toe, and you'll look like a supermodel." I followed her advice once, and I ended up looking more like a ninja on a funeral procession. Thanks, Mother Superior, but I think I'll stick to my own fashion disasters.
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