Mom: You could make a salad.
Me: Every time I walk into the kitchen you say that. That's the only thing you say to me anymore.
Mom: I distinctly remember saying "I stepped on the puppy's tummy."
Me: *laughs and nearly chokes on pumpkin bread*
Mom: *looks bemused*
Me: *swollows* Mom, he is NOT a puppy.
Mom: Right. I guess I didn't say that.
Me: I have to go blog this.

Backstory: kitty was under-foot, mum stepped on him, then brought him down to sleep on me so that he would not become the latest victim of her deadly size sixes. Two hours of sleepy kitty later, I went upstairs for sustanence, and mummy dearest offered her favorits suggestion/veiled hint. The pumpkin bread was a largely innocent, bystanding baked good.