Isn’t there a little part of all of us that wants to side with Betty Francis, Supermom? Wasn’t it great how she volunteered to chaperone the trip to Pappy Cyrus’s Potato Farm, and then didn’t just stand by, smoking and trading jokes about Ms. Keyser’s cleavage, but actually gulped down a warm bucket of straight-from-the-udder cow-juice? There’s a version of Betty that never would have bothered, that would have stayed home, trading shots of straight-from-the-can Reddi-wip with her latex-entombed dark passenger. She’s at least making an effort now.
And sometimes that effort ends when your idiot kid trades your lunch for a bag of fucking gumdrops. There’s a reason she got rid of the first four Bobbys. No respect whatsoever for Mommy’s property. Who did the brat think that second sandwich was for? Why do kids ruin everything? Mommy needs a cigarette.