At dinner this evening, Heidi told her parents about a quick visit she made to a neighbor down the street. John was a childhood friend of hers, and he and his wife and their two teenagers live in the house that he grew up in.
"You were where?" her dad asked, cupping his ear. He hasn't replaced the hearing aid he lost a couple of months ago.
"John's!" Heidi repeated.
He nodded. "Were you talking to the son or the old man?"
Heidi was confused. I could tell by the look on her face that she thought her dad had lost his marbles. John's parents have been dead for 40 years.
"I think your dad is calling your friend John 'the old man'," I guessed, knowing that his son was also named John.
"Right!" her dad waved a cranky hand. "Do you even know the kid?"
"As a matter of fact?" she answered, "I do. And I was talking to both of them."
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