Luke nearly dropped the roller at his mother's words. What the hell was going on? When did his mother become so interested in... this? Turning to replace the roller into the pan, Luke put his hands on his hips and look at his mother critically. It wasn't often that she completely mystified him (sure, sometimes she'd do really weird or random things, but he'd grown up with her so he was used to it), but now... this had felt like it had come straight from left field, and Luke really had no idea what to do with it.
"Okay Mom," he began, "what the fuck is going on?" Generally, Luke really tried not to swear in front of his mother, but this was a special case. "Since when have you been so interested in Mao? I was under the impression that you didn't even like him!" He swallowed. "And there is no 'relationship.' We're trying to be friends, but we pretty much even suck at doing that." There was a lot more to his explanation (if it could be called that) than he was letting on, but Luke didn't say any of that. Best not to over-complicate things, right?