Small talk, big problem.

My mother is the human equivalent of a Golden Retriever. I know this because I actually own a Golden Retriever, Millie. Both of them follow me around adoringly. I should accept this affection and soak it in. Instead, it's kind of driving me crazy. With Millie, I can curtly turn to her and say: "Millie, go sit down." I can be direct and a little rude and she's fine. I can't yet do that with Mom.

Mom is like a ninja. She's tiny, fast and quiet. Just when I think I'm alone, I turn a corner and she's there...with a question, or an observation or something random to say like this:

"Wow, the internet. Think they'll ever improve upon that?"

Um, um, um....I have no idea what to say in response to that.

Basically, my mother is the manifestation of my worst fear - a cocktail party in my house every day. You see, I HATE cocktail parties because I hate mingling. I have zero ability to walk up to people that I don't know and make small talk. My Mom, the human Golden Retriever, laps up any and all information on all people. She LIVES for small talk.

So now, I have small talk around me all the time. I'm having a really hard time with this. I have run out of things to say. I used to think that my Dad was being rude to my Mom. Now I think he was just trying to get through each day. The woman never stops. She's a sweetheart and she's driving me crazy.

Help me.