My next door neighbor’s son, daughter-in-law, and grands are visiting this week. On Wednesday, my neighbor said, “I can’t believe I’m free all afternoon. Sandi (her d-i-l) is preparing dinner this evening.”

“Nice. What’s she making?”

“Lasagna with bread; I guess it’s some new recipe using bread instead of pasta.”

“Hmm.” My mouth is thinking mushy, gummy bread slathered with tomato sauce and cheeses. “Really? I’ll be anxious to hear about how it tastes.”

“You can come to dinner.”

NO! “No thanks, I have plans tonight.” I couldn’t imagine ever eating anything like that! Plus, I’d have to pretend that I liked it, even if I could barely swallow mushy goo.

On Thursday evening, my neighbor came over to have a beer, and I inquired about the lasagna dinner success.

“Oh, Sue. You know I’m hard of hearing, and I wasn’t really listening. It was Lasagna with garlic bread; bread being on the side!”

And we laughed and laughed. The joys of old age!