My dear daughter." Momma carries about with her a well-spring of sentiment, which she did not bequeath to me.

In that respect I take almost entirely after my other parent.
"Very well," I said, "then I won't have to do it again." Her look of disappointment compelled me to speak with decision.

"I know what you would like at this juncture, momma.

You'd like me to get down on the floor and put my head in your lap and weep all over your new brocade.

That's what you'd really enjoy.