“I said, "I'll take the T-bone steak."A soft voice mooed, "Oh wow."And I looked up and realizedThe waitress was a cow.I cried, "Mistake--forget the the steak.I'll take the chicken then."I heard a cluck--'twas just my luckThe busboy was a hen.I said, "Okay no, fowl today.I'll have the seafood dish."Then I saw through the kitchen doorThe cook--he was a fish.I screamed, "Is there anyone workin' hereWho's an onion or a beet?No? Your're sure? Okay then friends,A salad's what I'll eat."They looked at me. "Oh,no," they said,"The owner is a cabbage head.”

“My son, Sam, at three and a half, had these keys to a set of plastic handcuffs, and one morning he intentionally locked himself out of the house. I was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when I heard him stick his plastic keys into the doorknob and try to open the door. Then I heard him say, "Oh, shit." My whole face widened, like the guy in Edvard Munch's Scream. After a moment I got up and opened the front door."Honey," I said, "what'd you just say?""I said, 'Oh, shit,'" he said."But, honey, that's a naughty word. Both of us have absolutely got to stop using it. Okay?"He hung his head for a moment, nodded, and said, "Okay, Mom." Then he leaned forward and said confidentially, "But I'll tell you why I said 'shit.'" I said Okay, and he said, "Because of the fucking keys!”

“You asked if I was okay. I'll say I'm okay but really, inside it takes everything that I can do, to not scream and cry.”

“He stood and looked at me for a moment, taking in my outfit. "You look hot.""What? Me?" I stammered, completely flummoxed."Yeah," he said, still looking at me."Oh. Um, thank you. I mean, not that you don’t, but I’m not sure that you should—I mean …""Oh, no," Roger said quickly, and I could see that he was blushing again. "No. I mean—I meant what you’re wearing. Are you going to be too warm?”

“You coming?” he asked her, leaning in through the door. And then he finally really looked at me. He came to a complete halt—not just his body, but his energy. His eyebrows went right up. “Oh,” he said. I sort of flicked my hem at him, assuming what I fondly considered an enigmatic look. “This okay?” I asked. “Oh,” he said again, stepping inside the house. The screen door hit him when it closed. “Yeah. Yeah, that works.” It kind of looked like he was beginning to sweat.”

“Please go" he said. "Just take my money - take anything - and go"I didn't get why he wanted me to take something, but he seemed really worried about it. So I looked around, and he had a bowl of fruit on the side, so I grabbed an apple, 'cause I always get hungry after I've been drinking."I'll take this, okay?" Then I left him there, but I took the knives and I hid them in the hall cupboard, just in case.”