KATHY: How are your parents?

D-D: Well, you’re my mother.

KATHY: So, how are your parents?

D-D: Well, you’re my mother, so you’re my parent. How are you?

KATHY: Wait, you’re mine?

D-D: I’m your daughter, Deirdre

KATHY: Oh, how embarrassing. I’m sorry D-D. 

D-D: It’s OK. If you’re gonna make that mistake, might as well make it with me.

KATHY: So who’s your father?

D-D: Fred.

KATHY: He is?

D-D: Yup. 

KATHY: I thought we just had those two awful boys. You don’t look like my daughter.

D-D: Well, I looked different when I was born.

KATHY: How can I be so stupid? 

D-D: You’re not stupid. You have Alzheimer’s. 

KATHY: Did I call you D-D when you were little? I love that name. Hey D-D. Hey little D-D. I just thought you were a nice kid who came here. I thought, wow! She comes here and helps out, how nice. Boy, Arthur sure likes you. I sure like you too. Well, did I raise you? 

D-D: Yeah.

KATHY: Oh, god, how awful. Sam and D-D was all I could think of.

D-D: Well, I’m D-D.

KATHY: Are ya?

D-D: Yeah. 

KATHY: What do you go by? 

D-D: D-D. 

KATHY: So, who was your mom?

D-D: You.

KATHY: So, who raised you?

D-D: You.

KATHY: Why?

D-D: Because you’re my mom. 

KATHY: I don’t remember it.

D-D: Yup. I’m your daughter. You can’t escape it.

KATHY: I wouldn’t want to. Did you ever get married?

D-D: Yup. I married Jack

KATHY: Oh, that’s right. Jack is on the loose. So what’s your first name?

D-D: Deirdre. 

KATHY: Yeah, that’s right. Don’t tell Fred this.

D-D: It would be hard to tell him. He died a couple of months ago. 

KATHY: Oh then, (laughing) go ahead and tell him.