Man: Honey. Do you know what time Katie will be home?
Woman: Uh, she should be here any minute. She took the car to pick up something from the store.
Man: Okay, I was just a little worried that . . . Man, what was that? Oh, no. The car! She drove over the mailbox and hit a tree in the front yard. Ah, the car!
Woman: Well, just don’t stand there blabbing all day. Let’s go out and see if Katie’s okay.
Man: Ah, my car.
Woman: Honey, are you okay?
Daughter: Oh, mom. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe this is happening.
Man: Oh, my car!
Woman: Forget your car!
Man: Driving with the cell phone. I know.
Daughter: It wasn’t that at all. Don’t jump to conclusions.
Man: Oh, yeah.
Daughter: Dad . . . um, mom. It’s not like that at all. I mean, as I was pulling into the driveway, something rolled from under the seat and got stuck under the brake pedal . . . the gas pedal . . . I, I don’t know, and I couldn’t stop the car. And then I accidentally hit the gas when I wanted to brake, and I hit the mailbox.
Woman: Uh, I think I know what the problem was. Honey, did you put those golf balls away like I told you? [Huh?] The ones YOU put under the driver’s seat . . . the ones I told you would get in the way.
Man: Man, I thought I got those.
Daughter: Plus, Mom, the windshield wipers on the car didn’t work, so I couldn’t see very well in the rain.
Woman: Didn’t you get those fixed?
Man: Uh, I’ve been meaning to get those repaired.
Daughter: And mom. I was going to use the car this weekend to go camping with my friends, but now my plans are ruined. My friends are going to hate me. What am I going to do?
Woman: Hon, yeah, what IS your daughter going to do? It appears it’s mainly your fault for the accident and that she’s in such a jam.
Man: My fault? Hey, why don’t you just invite your friends over for pizza? I’ll buy.
Daughter: Mom, we’ve been planning this weekend for months. I need a car.
Woman: Hon.
Man: What? I mean, man, what a predicament! That’s tough.
Woman: I think what your dad is trying to say is that you can take his new Jeep.
Daughter: Yeah, awesome.
Man: What?
Daughter: Yes!
Man: Wait, not my new Jeep. I don’t even have 500 miles on it.
Daughter: Four-wheeling through the mud, over big rocks and in deep ruts in the road . . . if there is a road.
Man: Ah.
Woman: You love your daughter, don’t you?
Man: Ask me after she returns from the trip.
Daughter: Ah, Dad. I’m gonna [going to] call my friends to let them know the good news. Thanks, Dad, I knew I could count on you.
Man: Yeah, but make sure wrecking the car doesn’t become a routine activity.
Daughter: Dad!
