My dad called me on Friday. He and Mom are having a garage sale. Again.
Dad: Hey! Did you want us to keep this glass for you?
Dad: We're having a garage sale.
Me: I know. What are you talking about?
Dad: This glass.
Me: (gritting my teeth) Which glass, Dad?
Dad: I found this glass in a box. It looks sort of like a beer mug and it has your intials on it. I think it's yours.
Me: If it has my initials on it, yes, it's probably mine. So?
Dad: Do you want it?
Me: (heaving a big sigh) I've told you before, Dad, anything left of mine that you find in your house you can feel free to get rid of. I'm not missing it, I'll never know. Except my clocks, don't sell my clocks.
Dad: What am I supposed to do with this glass?
Me: I don't care. Sell it.
Dad: Who's going to buy a glass that says "EEE" on it. Only you.
Me: (rolling my eyes) Then give it away to good will!
Dad: They're not going to want it either.
Me: Then throw it out, Dad. I really don't care.
Dad: You don't want it?
Me: No, Dad, I really don't. Can I talk to Mom now, please?