So, Charles and I are in the bedroom, and he’s trying on a shirt I bought off the rotten rack at a store that is about to go out of business, when we realize it has been monogrammed with someone else’s initials (O.S.J.). And we decide that if he keeps the shirt, he’ll need to think of an alias to tell people if anyone notices.
He thinks of a particularly naughty name, and I laugh loud enough to draw attention from elsewhere in the house. Dillon runs in, asking “what’s so funny?” and Charles says, “nothing remotely appropriate to tell you.”
And Dillon leaves the room, dejected, saying “whenever mom laughs like that its ALWAYS inappropriate.”