Dave: “Hey, just calling to see what time you’d be by to pick up the kids tonight.”
Me: “Erms…kids? I have kids?”
Dave: “Well, I think so.”
Me: “Huh.”
Dave: “But… they do sometimes make mistakes with these things.”
Me: “Must’ve been a burrito and an overworked L and D nurse.”
Dave: “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking too.”
Me: “Well, I guess I’ll be by to pick up these so-called “kids of mine” between 6-6:10 depending upon the train.”
Dave: “That works.”
Me: “I mean, if they ARE my “children” after all.”
Dave: “They’re actually reporting to the NSA about all the times you go to the bathroom.”
Me: “I KNEW there was something funny about the way they looked at me when I said I had to go to the bathroom again.”
Dave: “Ha-ha.”
Me: “I’ll text when I get close.”
Dave: “OH! And have you looked at the settlement agreement?”
Me: “Well, I did notice it was lacking in something very important.”
Dave: “What?”
Me: “Nowhere in it does it stipulate that I get a pony.”
Dave: “I must’ve left it out.”
Me: “Well, that’s a must. Please write it in or I won’t sign it.”
Dave: “I may have to cross “And Becky gets a pony” out of the final settlement.”
Me: “So long as the judge takes note of that.”
Dave: “I’m sorry I overlooked such a viable part of your future.”
Me: “You and me both. See you tonight!”
Dave: “Laters!”
Me: “Bye, yo.”
It didn’t dawn on me until after I hung up the phone that I didn’t specify if the pony had to be alive or not. Devil in the details and all that.
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