There are times when I hate my mother. I think the feeling was most oppressive when we went to go see DIE ANOTHER DAY together (she's a Brosnan fan and while I'm more partial to a Daniel Craig Bond myself, it was my mom and she wanted to see that movie so, eh...) and as Halle Berry comes striding out of the water in her skimpy bikini she declared, "Wow. She's like a black Aphrodite." Which would have been fine if my mother didn't speak in such a loud volume and we weren't sitting behind the only black women that I've ever seen attend a James Bond movie in the history of my movie-going experience. Because as much as I don't want to believe in the stereotypes, trying not to laugh when those women turned around and said, "Do you even know what the hell an Afro is, bitch?" to my bewildered mother was just cruelly painful. So I am definitely not showing her these pictures of Halle recreating the tight cleavage and the ageless body while playing on the beach with her kid.