I'm helping to clear the table after dinner with my parents and my mom is coughing sickly.
Me: How are you doing Mom?
Mom: I'm dying.
Me: Oh?
Mom: I'm old and I'm dying. No one should live past sixty.
[Today is her 63rd birthday. No, this isn't an April Fools joke.]
Me: Okay, I'll take you behind the shed and shoot you between the eyes.
Mom: Oh, surprise me. But let me clean up the garage first.
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