The banana loaf I was making was in the oven when my 16-year-
old came into the kitchen where the family had gathered.
"That bread smells about done don't you think, Mom?" he asked.
I told him I had set the timer and it was fine.
A little later he repeated his suggestion. "Mom, I really
think that loaf is done. Maybe you should check it."
Always quick to come to my defence, my 13-year-old son said,
"Eddie, Mom's been burning that banana bread for 20 years
now. I think she knows when to take it out."
On my way to a picnic, I stopped at a fast-food place to
order a quart of potato salad. "We don't sell it by the
quart," the clerk snapped. "Okay, then give me two pints,
please," I replied.
I'm proud to say I held my tongue when she asked, "Do you
want it in one container?"
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