Written by David Golbert Friday, 23 March 2012 00:00
It was a peaceful Sunday morning; I was sitting at the breakfast table finishing an onion roll with butter. Gail walked into the kitchen and in a sleepy voice asked, “Would you cut me a lemon for my tea.”
“Sure.” I went to the refrigerator and saw the lemon in question on the top shelf.
“You have to wash the lemon before you cut it.”
“I know that,” I replied with some feigned indignation. “And you knew that I knew it.”
“So, why did you say it?”
“Cause even though you knew it, didn’t mean you’d do it.”
“When you’re right, you’re right.” Then I washed the lemon.