cimorene

waxjism: Where's my passport?

cimorene: I don't know. Not with mine.

waxjism: Where was yours?

cimorene: In a special place I have there.

waxjism: Oh. [pause] There's so much shit here that's not my passport. I'm just going to keep throwing your stuff on the floor till I find my passport.

cimorene: But most of the stuff on that shelf is yours.

waxjism: Yeah, but the stuff I'm throwing on the floor is yours.

cimorene: Oh.
[later]

waxjism: Where's the Nokia backpack? It's not in any of the bedroom shelves. It's not in the hall closet. It's not in any of the places it usually is!

cimorene: Really, you can't find it? [Enters the bedroom. Kneels in front of the shelf where she has always kept all the backpacks in the house. Picks up a couple of tshirts and pulls out the backpack in question.]

waxjism: It's - oh, it's there! I did lift stuff.

cimorene: You didn't lift stuff.

waxjism: I did. Just not that stuff. Oh look, it's my passport!

cimorene: Handy!

waxjism: Oh look, it's my watch! I guess I haven't used that since last year!