Phone conversation I had with Matt yesterday:
Matt: Did you lose a plate?
Matt: An Allison plate.
Me: Um, I don’t know. (Should I care about a $.20 Ikea plastic plate?!)
Matt: Maybe from waffles?
Me: I’m pretty sure she wandered around the house eating the waffle.
Matt: Well, my mom found a sticky plastic plate in Allison’s kitchen.
Me: Okay… I’m guessing that would be from french toast yesterday. She didn’t have syrup with waffles. (Is there a point to this inquisition?)
Matt: It was covered in ants. (Oh.)
Me: *gag* Let’s just burn the house down and start over.
Me: Wait! We still have that stupid actual cash value insurance policy, so we can’t do that. If something happened to the house, we’d probably only get $32 and a pack of Twizzlers for the place. And I don’t even like Twizzlers.
I’m still not sure how this evolved into a 3 minute conversation, except that I suspect that he was trying to deny any blame for the ant plate because he was present for french toast. He probably planted the plate because he likes Twizzlers. And setting things on fire. But this conversation is now evidence that he didn’t want to set the house on fire, should our house suspiciously catch on fire. I hope the Twizzlers were worth it, Matt.