Here is a typical conversation at the Hilton house:
St. Bob, Richie, and I are
sitting at the kitchen island enjoying dessert, when Richie calls his sister,
Nicole. He asks what she’s doing, then
turns to me and says, “She’s making chard brownies.”
I swallow my
piece of coconut cream pie and ask, “Why would anyone want to char brownies?”
He tells her
I’ve asked this, and I can hear her voice through the phone, saying, “No; chard
brownies.”
“You do
realize this is a homonym, right?” Richie says.
By now we all realize that my organic/locally grown/traceable daughter
meant chard, not charred. But I cannot imagine why anyone would want to put
chard in an otherwise delightful treat.
It seems even worse than charring one.
Finally I decide
she’s just ultra-organized, and she’s already working on April Fool’s Day
ideas.
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