My mother: Could you lend me your keys for the day? Quickly. I’m leaving right away.
Me: ‘course, ‘course. Just take them out of… [I jab my hairbrush at my ‘work’ bag]
MM: I don’t think it is in your bag. I think I saw you toss it somewhere here yesterday… [begins exacavating the layers on my sofa].
Me (with heavy patience): Mumma, my keys would not be lolling about on the sofa. I could be wrong, but I think if you just open the top zip of my bag…
MM (pulling out the keys from under a Maths textbook with quiet triumph): Darling, you are always wrong. Thanks. See you in the evening. Ta! [disappears in the swish of a saree].