Mom: So are you all ready for this afternoon?
Me: Yup. The litter is scooped. The floors are spotless. The kitchen canisters are in the oven. I’m ready to go.
Mom: The canisters are in the oven? Why does that sound familiar?
Me: Didn’t you do that once? Then you forgot they were in there. I seem to remember something about turning on the oven and melting your car keys with the little fob remote on them.
Mom: Oh that DOES sound familiar. Now why the hell would I have put my canisters in the oven?
Me: Why the hell would you put the TV remote in your purse?
Mom: You little frip.
Me: Love you. You guys have exciting dinner plans?
Mom: No. What are you guys making for dinner?
Me: Nothing that involves the oven, obviously.
Mom: What? Oh yeah, the canisters. Your dad says he remembers the melted keys, too. He thinks it happened at the old house.
Dad: That incident is the reason we don’t keep car keys in canisters any more.
Mom: So how did the open house go?
Me: We had two whole people show up. We’re going to need some sort of crowd control at the next one, obviously.
Me: Yeah, I keep trying to sweet talk St. Joe, but nothing is happening.
Mom: Screw that St. Joe. He’s a fickle little shit. You should do him in.
Me: How do you “do in” a tiny plastic figurine?
Dad: First you put him in a canister….