I was telling him why it was important to park inside the lines: “so there’s room for a person to park next to you.” He answered “plenty of room if they’re on a motorcycle.”
Which reminded me of a piece of doggerel I knew from a half century ago: “I don’t want a pickle, just wanna ride on my motorcycle.”
He asked me what a pickle was, but quickly it became clear he was kidding. I started to explain and he said it’s made from a cucumber.
“Is a pickle sour?”
I said yes and there’s also another kind.
He said “sweet?”
“How did you know that?”
“It just seems obvious if one is sour the other is sweet.”
I find it hard to believe anyone spent that much time talking with him about pickles before. It also seems unlikely anyone read him a story about pickles, or that the subject came up in the Gummibears, Chip And Dale Rescue Rangers, or Coyote/Road Runner.
Comments
I can't resist mentioning your mother's sweet & sour pickles (or was it bread and butter pickles?) - Gold medal at the Oregon State Fair and highly deserving. Lord, they were good. Also her homemade ketchup was beyond belief.