Mom: What is it you want me to bring over?

Me: Clothes, my hairstraightener, hair curler, my stuff. 

Mom: Okay, I can see your hair stuff right now. 

Me: Call me before you come over. 

Six hours later:

Mom: I can't find your hair stuff, I'm just going to give you the money to buy new ones. 

My mother has become a chronic liar.