Deciding to eat healthier breakfasts, my brother-in-law declared that oatmeal would now be his cereal of choice.
But after eating his first bowl, he told my sister, “I hope I develop a taste for the stuff. It goes down real rough.”
“Well,” she asked, “how long did you cook it?”
“You’re supposed to cook it?” he said.
While watching a movie recently, I couldn’t hear the dialogue over
the chatter of the two women sitting in front of me. Unable to
bear it any longer, I tapped one of them on the shoulder. “Excuse
me,” I said, “I can’t hear.” “I should hope not,” she replied
sharply. “This is a private conversation.”