I think my parents have finally come in terms with their being doomed with a theatre child.
Me: (yelling from over the stair rail) DAAAAD!
Me: I need to go to Lombard's tomorrow and buy a fake dagger!
Him: Isn't Lombard's a little far from your school?
And end conversation. Wha--? I guess I was a little startled with his nonchalance (not that I'm always looking to purchase plastic weapons but "Why?" has always been in the rents' vocabulary)...
Things are looking up!
(if you're wondering, the dagger is for a monologue performance---which I should really be practicing instead of yapping off here...)