I decided to make some fried rice and orange chicken for dinner tonight.  I wasn’t sure how it would go over with Joe, but I knew that Dot would love it.

Dot:  “Oh boy!  What a treat!  Is this Chinese food??”

Me:  “Yep, it is.  I thought it’d be nice to have something different.”

Joe:  “Chinese?  What’s Chinese?”

Dot:  “Your dinner.  It’s Chinese food.  It’s good.  Eat it!”

Joe:  “It came all the way from China?”

Dot:  “Do you think that Whitney went all the way to China to get our dinner?”

Joe laughed:  “Well if she did she was sure quick!”

Me:  “It’s just the name for this style of food.”

Joe:  “Oh okay.”

Dot:  “Do you like it Joe?  It’s good, isn’t it?!”

Joe:  “I don’t know.  I haven’t even tried it yet.”

Dot:  “So try it!”

Joe:  “I’m getting’ to it.  I never ate this kind of fancy food before…”

Dot:  “Oh you have too!  We’ve gone out to Chinese restaurants before.”

Joe:  “I ain’t never been to China.  I know that for a fact!”

Dot rolled her eyes.

Me:  “Hey Joe, it’s really not all that fancy.  It’s just rice and chicken.”

Joe:  “Oh, is that what it is?!  Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”

Me:  “Well I guess I should’ve just said that in the first place, huh?”

Joe:  “One thing that I’ve learned in my life is that there’s no point in puttin’ fancy names on things.  I mean, for instance, shit is shit.  There’s really no way to fancy it up.”

Me:  “You are exactly right, Joe.  I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Apparently Dot didn’t hear a word we said when she asked, “How do you like your Chinese food, Joe?”

Joe:  “What’s Chinese about my food…?”