Conversations with my father, part 2.

After the non-existent fire:

Me: Hi, Dad. It's all over.

Dad: Did your apartment burn down?

Me: No, they couldn't figure out where it came from.

Dad: What?

Me: They checked all the apartments and couldn't find anything.

Dad: Maybe it was a power strip.

Me: Well, they went over everything with a heat camera, and they don't know what happened.

Dad: Maybe it was all in your head.

Me: Thanks, Dad.

Dad: Are you oooooooooookaaaaaaay? Do you feel saaaaaaaafe? Maybe you should go stay in a hotel.

Me: Are you going to pay for it?

Dad: By hotel, I meant your car. Do you want me to drive down?

Me: Yes, I want you to get in your car and drive down here and comfort me after my scary, scary experience.

Dad: No way. Maybe your mother will.

Me: Maybe she will.

Dad: But she's babysitting the Baby tomorrow, so I doubt it.

Me: Oh, so I have no chance then.

Dad: No chance at all.