That Doesn’t Sound Like A “You’re Wrong” To Me

Last night somebody handed me a soft blanket that was a particular shade of grey, and I stopped a moment to marvel at it.

“This is so soft,” I said, “that if somebody skinned Eeyore and made a blanket out of him, I’ll bet the blanket would look and feel exactly like this.”

Naturally this prompted a horrified look from L’s Mother.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” I challenged her with a grin.

Her retort?

“Shut up!”

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