“I really hate that ice cream you bought,” the Lad told me last night.
“Yeah,” I said, “but it’s not coffee flavored like we thought; I checked.”
“What flavor is it?”
“It’s mocha flavored,” I said, and for the next few seconds I was treated to one of the Lad’s rare ‘you’re so stupid I’m stunned’ silences. “Mocha is coffee,” he said finally.
“…Oh,” I said. “Hey! You better not tell anyone I said that! Do you promise? You have to promise.”
And since he wouldn’t promise, here we are.