Susan's parents drove up from the heat stroked wasteland of eastern-middle Florida to bunk with her family for a week. Susan's little sister had been hosting them for fifteen years and now it was Susan's turn.
She doesn't mind because you know, they raised her.
Anyway, they're pretty good guests.
They play cards with her kids, put up with the deaf, flatulent dog and pitch in with the chores, even the ones Susan doesn't want them to do.
Susan's old man washes the dishes by hand although Susan has explained that the dishes go in the dishwasher. This isn't an arbitrary rule, if the dishes start getting washed by hand then there won't be enough dishes to run the dishwasher and then they'll all have to get washed by hand. This is a scenario Susan avoids at all cost.
The last time Susan caught her father at the sink he was washing a lasagne pan and she gently reminded him to knock it off.
The next morning Susan was in the kitchen preparing to make a cup of coffee when she saw the lasagne pan.
She picked it up & walked toward the cabinet to put it away but she hit a wet spot. She slid across the floor and didn't stop until all 160 lbs of her, and the lasagne pan, crashed into the wall.
Susan's daughter was reading in the next room and surely heard the sound of the wall stopping her mother's trajectory, yet there was no inquiry. As Susan sat there, she reviewed whether she heard a bone snap. She did not. Eventually, the daughter came in and assisted Susan by taking the lasagne pan so that Susan could crawl across the floor, hoist herself up and make coffee.