Mother's opinion on my type.

Me: Hey Ma, did you wanna get a look at the guy I'm seeing. In case you "ever need to pick him out of a lineup," as you say.

[Ma grabs her glasses and comes over for a look. Leans in close for a better look and reports:] Wow, he looks generic.

[After laughing hysterically for maybe five solid minutes, I respond:] I guess I have a type?

Ma: Guess so.