Plate-o

So I get down the Cape and notice that, in the dining room, there’s a plate sitting in one of those plate display holders, because apparently when you hit a certain age you decide plates are worth displaying. Then I look closer and see that it’s a dinner plate from Dirty Dancing.

Me: Mom, why do you have a plate from Dirty Dancing?
Mom: What? Oh.
Me: Do they sell these?
Mom: [pause] Well, no.
Me: Why do you have it?
Mom: [You really have to know my mom to appreciate this next part.] Well, you know, Red…sometimes you just pick things up along the way in life.
Me: Thank you, Plato. Did you steal a plate from Dirty Dancing?
Mom: No! Well, not exactly.
Me: You stole a plate!
Mom: You see, what happened is that Hoodlum Waiter…
Me: Oh dear God. [Hoodlum Waiter is a friend from Dirty Dancing with whom I have playdates while I’m there, but he also has this weird bond with my mom.] You realize that no good can come from a story that starts with, “what happened is that Hoodlum Waiter…”
Mom: That’s true. But he knew I always really liked those plates…
Me: Mom!
Mom: I thought he told you we did it!
Me: I thought you guys were KIDDING.
Mom: No.
Me: You stole a plate from a restaurant, basically.
Mom: Yup.
Me: How did you get it out of the dining room?
Mom: It wasn’t easy! But Hoodlum Waiter wrapped it…
Me: Oh dear GOD.
Mom: Yeah, you can pretty much figure out the rest.

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