Every six months or so I hear Susan exclaim, “What the hell is a mothball?” This most recent occurrence was instigated.
More frequently, I will sometimes declare that, “we have a plan. Like the Cylons.” Which of course causes a constantly frustrated Susan to reply, “But what is it?! What is their plan?!”
I just nod {knowingly|bemusedly|irritatedly}, whichever has the most effect in that moment.