Rats that fly

Last weekend, Mr J and I left our two beautiful cats, and ventured on a roadtrip of epic proportions. We drove for 6 1/2 hours to Denver, CO. He went to visit his family. I went to visit Lizard and to attend Heather Armstrong's book signing. He had a great time, I had a great time. But what really made the trip worth it? The conversation on the ride home.

Mr J: "So what did you and Lizard do while I was kickin' it with my nieces?"

Suicidal Jane: "You know, the usual. We drank, watched movies, I dyed her hair and then put a streak in my own."

Mr J: "Cool."

Suicidal Jane: "Oh, and she made me dinner. Pigeon. It was really good, she's a good cook!"

Mr J: "Hmm. Are you sure it was pigeon and not dove?"

Suicidal Jane: "It was pigeon. Dove's too expensive."

Mr J: "How'd she cook it?"

Suicidal Jane: "Just put some steak seasoning on it and threw it on the grill. Very tasty."

Mr J: "Wow, I'm really proud of you for eating that. You're usually so picky."

Suicidal Jane: "What are you talking about? There was no gross sauce involved. It was just a  season salt mix..."

Mr J: "I mean, trying pigeon! I didn't know you could buy that!"

Suicidal Jane: "What are you talking about? You know that when I say pigeon, I mean it was chicken, right?"

Mr J: "You didn't eat pigeon?!"

Suicidal Jane: "Uh... no."

Mr J: "It's like I don't even know who you are anymore?!!"

I love the goober, but it's clear we don't speak the same language....

Update: Mr J told me I was an ass for posting this