Okay, sweetie, just stay calm and don’t panic. I SAID DON’T PANIC. You’re making me nervous.

Now, to do this the RIGHT way, we need a portable X-ray unit. Of course, your father always forgets the portable X-ray unit. He remembers the dog’s birthday. He remembers to refill the hummingbird feeder. He remembers the name of every horse in every Western ever produced in the history of cinema. But he forgets the portable X-ray unit. I have to do everything. Anyway, it’s time to locate the detonator.

Do you have a protective suit, honey? I bet you look so precious in a protective suit. It’s not patronizing—what does that even mean? Well, I suppose if you don’t have a protective suit, you can tape a bunch of throw pillows to your head and torso. I have about two dozen on that loveseat in the front room. I sure hope it’s enough. Let’s see if I can get a look at the battery on this thing. That reminds me: the TV remote needs new batteries. I’ll let your father know by shouting.

Hand me my scissors, please. NO, THESE ARE MY FABRIC SHEARS. The other ones. Thank you. Now, I’m going to be looking for a pretty blue wire. Here it is. Don’t you think that’s a lovely shade of blue? I’d like a sofa in this color. DON’T PANIC OR I WILL PANIC. If you need a tissue, your father bought twenty boxes at Costco. I sure hope it’s enough. Now I am looking for a chemical charge.

We’re ready to start pumping water into the unit. Oh, I bet you’re thirsty. Can I get you a cold drink? Have you eaten anything today? I can make you a grilled cheese when I’m finished here. Maybe a nice quiche? A big pot of gumbo? You don’t eat enough. Don’t you roll your eyes at me while I’m disarming a bomb, Laura Katherine.

Your brother and his family are coming over for dinner later. Did you hear about your brother? He was attacked by a peacock. Why are you laughing? You’re just like your father. Hand me my scissors again. Stop laughing! Your brother could have DIED from that peacock bite. When I was growing up in the South, people were killed by peacocks all the time. It’s true! Now I’m separating the detonator and the main charge mechanism. WHAT’S THAT BEEPING? Oh, right, it’s the oven. I baked sixty-four cupcakes. I sure hope it’s enough. Let’s see if the water projector was effective in disabling the device.

Okay, it looks like that hydro-blast did its job. The unit has been destroyed. Now you can relax. JUST RELAX, FOR GOD’S SAKE. Go in the kitchen—pay attention, there might be an active pressure plate in there—go in the kitchen and get yourself a cool glass of water. Maybe have some leftover mac and cheese. There are only a few pounds left. I sure hope it’s enough.

And BE CAREFUL. I just mopped.