Once Memorial Day is past, the days tend to blur into one another until Labor Day. It isn't that Mom and Pop are senile (she insists, somewhat defensively); it's just that they work every single day all summer long, with only calendar numbers to differentiate the days of the week. And so --
Pop: Today's Thursday, isn't it?
Mom: No, it's Wednesday.
Pop: Are you sure? I'm pretty sure it's Thursday.
Mom [now going over to Pop's belief]: No. Darn! I thought it was Wednesday, and I put the garbage out this morning. [It gets picked up on Wednesdays.] Maybe they'll pick up a day late because of the holiday? We'll find out when we get home, I guess.
Pop: I think that's right. Wait a minute, though. Were we supposed to go to dinner last night at your friend's house?
Mom [stricken]: Oh, no!
Pop: Was that for Wednesday or Thursday?
Mom: Wednesday! Oh, no!
Mom reaches for the phone to call friend, preparing an effusive, embarrassed apology in her head.
Pop [calling to Clare in shop next door]: Clare, is today Wednesday or Thursday?
Mom [Looking at her calendar]: It's Wednesday. Thank God!
Another crisis averted in the lives of Mom and Pop!
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