Later that day

Dad and I ended up going to WF anyway. He said something about mom's dilly-dalling having gotten to the point that leaving the house is a crawl. Even this afternoon, when he got in from work before coming to pick me up, mom was insisting on doing a few more things. I told him about the outing to Russo's, about the litany of critiques.

A.: Oh, she said I threw a fit at the slightest provocation.
Dad: Hah! She said that to you? She says that to me all the time.

That's hilarious, because dad is very patient and level-headed. Truthfully and objectively, it's mom who throws a fit at the slightest provocation. I think it's hilarious that she accuses either of us, but especially dad, of doing so.

Dad: Why, why did she buy those shrink-wrapped tomatoes?
A.: I tried to stop her.
Dad: They don't even taste like tomatoes.
A.: I know. But when I told her that she accused me of butting my nose into everything and knowing it all.
Dad: [Sigh.]