Mom: "You know, I really need to teach you to put in a hem. Some day I might not be here to do this."
Me: "You have tried to teach me to hem twice. Both times you ended up cursing. Loudly."
Mom: "That's just ridiculous! What are you going to do when I am dead?"
Me: "You are not allowed to die."
Mom: "I will die if I want to die! Now, what are you going to do about hemming?"
Me: "I will do what I did in grad school: I will staple my pants."
Mom: "You are very stupid for someone with a doctor's degree. You cannot staple your pants!"
Me: "Why not?"
Mom: "Because when you wash those pants, the staples will rust."
Me: "Surely not. Aren't staples rust-proof nowadays?"
Mom: "No, they are not. Normal people staple paper. Do you wash your paper?"
Me: "Not on purpose."
Mom: "So? Staples rust. Look it up on your computer thing."
Me: "Hmmm...there seem to be rust-proof staples, but they are special staples worthy of much advertising. I doubt they are what I have in my stapler."
Mom: "See? And when they rust, the rust will get on your pants and stain them. You cannot staple your pants!"
Me: "Some people...people I know...have suggested duct tape."
Mom: "Duct tape?! I do not think that will work."
Me: "It worked on Apollo 13."
Mom: "Listen, you dumbhead, duct tape on Apollo 13 was not put in the washing machine."
Me: "Duct tape can do anything!"
Mom: "It cannot hem. You are a lost cause. If I decide to die, you will trip over all of your pants and have broken legs and everyone will make fun of you. You will have to pay someone to hem your pants."
Me: "I will not do that. I'd rather not wear pants."
Mom: "Hah! I'm glad I will be dead and not have to see that."