As the evening drew to a close, Bob walked my mom home, still attempting to charm her with his, ahem, unique brand of awkwardness. As they said their goodbyes, I could sense the relief emanating from my mom. It was clear that there wouldn't be a second date.
When your mother calls you post-disaster, she is not looking for solutions. She is looking for witnesses. You must recognize the three distinct phases of her debrief.