“You told me to write the book,” my dad says. “I thought you should get it out of your system,” my mom says. “You knew it would humiliate me,” says my dad. “And hold back my career. So you could be the successful one and I could be your abashed consort.” “I didn’t know it would be a bad book about time travel, Victor,” says my mom. “I thought it would be a good book about time travel.”
