Pajama Insurance

(We are changing insurances and my mother is filling out paperwork at the table, while I’m sitting on the sofa next to her. It’s very late evening and I have spent the whole day at home sick.)

Mum: “Do you happen to have your insurance card here?”

Me: “…Is that a serious question?”

Mum: “Yes, it is. Do you have it?”

Me: “Are you really asking me that?”

Mum: *nods, without looking up*

Me: “Mum, look at me. Please.”

(She looks up, to see me in my whole pyjama-clad glory. Obviously, she sees nothing wrong with that, since she looks confused.)

Me: “You are asking me if I carry around my insurance card at this very moment.”

Mum: “Yes, I am.”

Me: “In my pyjamas.”

(She immediately puts on a poker face.)

Mum: “Well, go get it, then. I need it.”

(I get the insurance card from upstairs.)

Mum: “Oops…”

Me: “What?”

Mum: “I don’t even need it.”