The angel that stops droplets of Freon from falling on your head when you walk past window box air conditioners on hot days.

The angel that makes sure your wait time to speak with a company representative is less than 48 minutes.

The angel that protects your $5.99 chrome-painted drugstore sunglasses from loss or damage despite ten years in your possession, three apartment moves, a Burning Man, several runs through the washer, and the fact that you loathe them.

The angel that steers you away from the banana at the grocery store that would make your mouth all cottony if you ate it but looks just like all the other bananas, so you wouldn’t be able to tell otherwise.

The angel that keeps low-slung branches and vines from thwacking you across the face when you’re on your bike and you can’t duck or swerve because your reflexes are too slow, or you’re drunk.

The angel that makes sure you only run into the coworkers you don’t care about when you go on Internet dates.

The angel that guarantees you never meet on an Internet date a man named Alfonse with champagne colored eyes, an intriguing but not overly concerning checkered past, and a shared obsession with Kate Bush, who (Alfonse) will shower you with affection for a several dates but then leave you for a woman who looks like Kate Bush.

Your mother.

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