"I wasn't asking you to sell your car because I know you love it so much," I said. The Sober Husband and his Prius (nicknamed by me "the Science Coffin") seem like a perfect match.
The Sober Husband scoffed. "I don't care if that car lives or dies."
I looked at him in horror. "Don't talk that way!"
Iris intervened. "It's not like it's the Baby," she said, referring to my beloved MINI Cooper. "The Baby is a beloved member of the family. His car is just a car."
"I'm so glad you understand," I said.
Iris rolled her eyes. "I was being sarcastic."
Clearly Iris is working the system to her advantage. A few more interactions along those lines and you'll simply throw her out of the house. If a boarding school happens to catch her for a few years, so much the better.
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