John: "Twenty? Name them."
This is actually 20 years of marriage speaking, folks, but at the end of the post you won't believe a word.
Matron: "Okay -- Becky, Ned, Ali, Desiree, and Beth."
John: "That's five. Five is not twenty."
Matron: "But it felt like twenty. Can you give me that?"
John: "Yes, because it's you. But five is five, honey. We can both live with that and still celebrate your experience."
Matron: "Did you just say 'celebrate your experience'?
John: "Uh, yes. Unless that means I have to clean the bathroom on the third floor."
Matron: "Can we make a pact? I'm going to err to the side of hyperbole forever and ever. If I see five people, it's twenty. If I have a scratch, it's near-surgery. That's the way I operate and we'll both deal. You can sort out the truth on your own but I need to live my fantasy."
And friends? That okay? Made her love him more. Because then he just kissed her on the forehead and moved on.
Guess who saw FIFTY people at the grocery store today?