Living with my mom while she was dating my dad

We were having cake for James' birthday today, and chatting, naturally.

Bossman brings up that women from South America or Africa (he couldnt remember which) ferment beer with their spit. It proceeds to the subject that mackerel fish can clarify the yeast in beer and how someone discovered that.

I say, "Someone was probably eating fish over the vat of beer."
Bossman says, "yes, or they served beer in the fish,"
Then Marge says, "Well I think it's because they were eating fish while drinking beer and dropped some fish into the beer."
"Great idea mary!" Bossman says.
"I literally just said that," I points out, seemingly aggravated.
Marge laughs and says she thought it was the voice in her head, and we joke that its the voice that has been following her around for 30 years. I went into how people always thought I was Marge when I answered the phone at home, and I shit you not, looking straight at me, she replies with this gem:

"Well I think you were living with me when I was dating Stan (my father), and we used to do that to him."