After a Christmas Day showing of "King Kong," my family lingers in the theater:
Dad: "How does Skull Island sound for vacation next summer?"
Offspring chuckle at the thought of our father hoisting Mom into the rainforest canopy as an offering to The Beast.
Dad: "Whaddaya think, guys? Would Kong would take her away?"
Me: "Sure. But after a couple days he'd probably be ready to give her back." Then I point a finger at my mother and warn, "You'd better watch your nagging if you want to be returned in the condition you were received."
My brother, in an uncanny imitation of Mom: "Look at this cave! You couldn't clean up for me a little bit?"
Me: "No salt? No garlic? Who eats this way?"
Dad: "It's enough already with the climbing! What can you do up there that you can't do down here?"
Mom ignores the fun-making and turns toward my father with a sweet smile. "Would you do that for me, honey? Climb to the top of the Empire State Building to save my life?"
Dad considers the question, scratching his chin, then shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so. As long as I don't have to schlep you down."