Phone call

Mom: Are you ready for the roses?
A.: Not yet. I'll do some weeding this weekend.
Dad: You can made salad out of the dandelion greens.
A.: True, although I'm a bit afraid of them because of the soil. Lots of other weeds, though.
Mom: That's not what I mean: we need a system so that they'll survive when it gets cold.
Dad: But it doesn't get cold in DC.

"It doesn't get cold in DC" is my dad's version of "you've really put on weight." He was here once, over a decade ago, over the holidays, and it happened to be warm. I call him on it every time, but nothing can disabuse him of the idea that it doesn't get cold in DC.

Mom: When are you leaving?
Mom: I don't know--Thursday or Friday.
A.: Well, I need to know whether to take all of Friday off or just the afternoon.
Dad: We can amuse ourselves.
A.: No, you can't.
Dad: What kind of stuff do you have to do around the house?
A.: Not much. I mean, there's stuff, but I don't want to spend the weekend doing it.
Dad: You can narrate the Japan pictures.
Mom: Right--I still haven't looked at them.
Dad: How many megapixels do you have now? Five?
A.: 3.
Dad: 3? That would basically put your camera in the 'junk' category.
A.: I know, I know. But you're not happy with Panasonic?
Dad: It's a great camera, but the interface is a pain... but I don't know-- you're better with computers.
A.: I still don't want to deal with it. Anyway, let me know about when you plan on getting here.
Mom: We'll decide later this week.
A.: I'd prefer to inform my team earlier in the week.
Mom: We'll decide later this weekend, then.
A.: Okay.