Do I make you proud, momma?

Are you proud to call me your son?
 
See, I'm not all that mothers want from their sons. I get horrible grades, I've been fired from so many jobs, I'm nineteen and still so irresponsible I can't take care of a goldfish (yet I have a chicken, a dog, and three cats. .___.), and I'm gay. So the other day when I told my momma my math professor had given me a D for the quarter, she frowned and walked into the kitchen. I stood there for a while, baffled mostly, then I walked into the kitchen and asked, "Are you proud of me, momma?" and she looked at me and whispered, "All the time."