* * * * *
Notes on an overheard conversation while pulling into the driveway
“You know, it's not a song unless you can sing the lyrics to it.”
“There are lyrics!”
“Oh yes? Then sing them!”
“Okay, granted—I can barely hear them, but they're there!”
“Well, can you carry this into the house?”
“Sigh. Okay, I will, even though you don't seem to appreciate the finer
things in life.”
“It's still not a song.”
“Philistine!”
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