Mrs. Brown dialed her daughter's number and sang out, "Hello, darling. How are you?"
"Terrible, Mom. My back is killing me, the children are acting up, the house is a mess…and I'm expecting guests for dinner."
"Don't worry, darling. I'm coming right over. I'll feed the kids, clean up your place, and cook a dinner your guests will never forget."
"You're an angel! How is Dad?"
"Dad? Sweetheart, you know Daddy died nine years ago."
Pause. "What number are you calling? Hold on? Please!" the voice wailed. "Does this mean you are not coming over?"