Were I a writer, these would be the perfect metaphoric scenes for the entirety of my life:
ME: Oh, damn, my dinner plans got canceled.
DEAR ONE: Your friends do that all the time. Decide they don’t really want to be around you.
ME: Dear one, guess what? I’m going to make a smorgasbord of chocolate chip cookies this weekend for you.
DEAR ONE: Can you not put salt on them?
ME: (Shoots self)
DEAR ONE: Who’s gonna clean that up now that he’s dead?