The phone rang. She answered it — sort of.
He said: “It sounds like your voice is almost gone.”
She croaked: “It comes and goes.”
He said: “I’m finished early. I’ll be home in an hour.”
She said: “Well then would you like me to cook you dinner, or are you still going to eat out?”
He said: “I’m not feeling all that well myself. I don’t want a big dinner.”
She said: “What’s wrong?”
He described an unpleasant intestinal malady.
She said: “From too much salad?” Because that’s all he’s been taking for lunch.
He said: “Possibly, but I doubt it. I probably have some preschool bug.”
She said: “Where the heck would you get that?”
He said: “Gee, I don’t know. Do you have any idea?”
She said: “None whatsoever!”
He said: “Pft!”