Conversation between Chris and me the other night when he called to tell me he was on the way home.
Chris: Hi, I'm leaving.
Me: Ok. See you in a bit. I'm sort of busy.
Chris: Doing what?
Me: Breaking stuff.
Chris: How often does that go on?
Me: A lot.
Chris: Where's all the broken stuff?
Me: I'm really good at fixing it.
Chris: Fixing it?
Me: Or. . . disguising it.
Chris: What do you. . . ah. . . never mind. I probably shouldn't know.
It's taken nine years for him to come to that wisdom.