Jessica: What are you doing?
Me: Getting a ream of paper out of the closet.
Jessica: What is a ream of paper?
Me: A package of 500 sheets of paper. Although at one time a ream was 480 pages. You see—
Jessica (trying to distract me): What’s for dinner?
Me: And you know what else? A quire. A quire used to be four pages folded over to create a folio of eight pages, but now—
Jessica (under her breath): Back in the Middle Ages.
Me: What?
Jessica: And anyway who uses that word?
Me: What?
Jessica: You’re getting upset over something that is really not important.
Me: It’s important to me?
Jessica: Mom.
Me: I have to care about something and this is it?
Jessica: Mom.
Me: I’m a pedantic old fuddy-duddy who should be making dinner about now?
Jessica: I didn’t say that.
Me: You implied it.
Jessica: I did not. You inferred it.
Me (cackling): Any day now you’re going to turn into me.