M.O.M. (sitting at the dining room table): "I had such a rough week at work. I'm exhausted."
Me (sitting across from her, absent-mindedly flipping through a catalog): "Yeah. I'm pretty sleepy too."
M.O.M. (slumping a bit in her seat, closing her eyes, and rubbing her temples): "It's why I've been this way all week. All moody and grumpy and just out of it."
Me (staring at a page of bookcases and wondering how long it would take Teacup to empty the lower shelves):
"Hmm. Is that your way of apologizing?"
M.O.M. (sitting up slowly and staring at me): "Apologizing for what, exactly?"
Me (suddenly aware of the taste of my own foot): "Uhm. Nothing. It just sounded like you were apologizing. Do you like these bookcases? I think we need a new one."
M.O.M. (narrowing her eyes): "Why would I need to apologize?"
Me (laughing nervously): "Ha! For nothing!"
M.O.M. (smiling slightly): "No. Please. Let me know what I need to apologize for."
Me (terrified because I know that her smile, ironically, signifies violence): "I love you?"
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