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?
KATHY: He is?
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?
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?
KATHY: What do you go by?
KATHY: So, who was your mom?
KATHY: So, who raised you?
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?
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.