A conversation with my mom via e-mail

Me: Apparently J is not the happy, go lucky man I once knew. I have insider information that he has become bitter and mean and not-fun.
Mom: He is not the J you loved...
Me: Where did he go?
Mom: He is in a tomb under his Quaker primary school – his spirit never grew older than the last age he was when he went there.
Me: Probably.
Mom: You will find a nice/patient/all-loving and generous guy. He’ll probably be Catholic, not Quaker.*

*J was not Quaker, just went to a Quaker primary school that taught the kids with the Quaker, hands-off, non-grading, teach-what-the-kids-want-to-be-taught ideals. He has (in my opinion) severe and negative effects from going to such a tiny school. My mother is a public school teacher. And a Catholic.

NOTE: My mother is usually an open-minded woman, but when it comes to men who have hurt me, she can be brutal. It's the Jersey Girl in her, I think. At least, I hope it's not genetic...