My mom's moving, and I still have an old bed at her place. No big deal, right? You obviously haven't met my mother. See, in my head, this is how the conversation goes:
Her: Can you get the bed?
Maybe it's that I work in words all day and I'm intolerant of superfluous ones. I don't know. At any rate, here's the actual conversation:
[Much preceding conversation]
My mom: So when can you get the bed?
Me: Any time is fine.
Her: How about 8:30?
Me: Sure; 8:30 is fine.
Her: 8:30 p.m.?
Me: 8:30 p.m.
Her: So you'll be ready to move it then?
Me: I'll be ready.
Her: See you at 8:30 tomorrow then?
Me: See you at 8:30.
So tonight, after unrelated craziness, I'm getting ready for the big bed move. It occurs to me that I accidentally left my cell phone in the car for a few minutes. I pick it up, and find two terse messages from my mom. I call back.
Me: So you called? I thought we were about to move the bed.
Her: Well I didn't know what you wanted to do.
Me: Uh, I thought we were moving the bed.
Her: I didn't know when you wanted to do it, or if you wanted to do it, or what...
Me: Didn't we say 8:30?
Her: We never really pinned it down.
Me: Yes, we did. We said 8:30. Like five times.
Her: Well, I didn't know if that would be OK.
Me: I said it would. A few times.
Her: Well, since we didn't know, we reassembled the bed. We might as well not move it now.
Me: Well, when would you like to do it?
Her: I guess tomorrow is fine, if you can.
Me: I can.
Her: Just call me tomorrow, so I'll know if you can do it.
Gotta love moms.