My Mis-Hearing

A million years ago, my friend Jeff took a big draw on his soda, slammed the paper McDonald's cup down on the table between us, swallowed, took a deep breath, and with uncharacteristic conviction, said:

I've seen some dancers in my time.

To this day, we have no idea what he actually said. What I heard was six thousand times more entertaining to both of us, and in our shock at how badly I'd misinterpreted him, we forgot the whole original topic. I got every word of it wrong. I mis-hear things all the time, but that's the quintessential one. I get things wrong, and friends sadly shake their heads and say, "I've seen some dancers in my time." The soundtrack of my life is loaded with mondegreens.

Tonight, I called to John from the kitchen.

"Sweetie, I'm making French toast and sausage. You want some?"

He called back, very clearly, "I hate Breuners."

"We all hate Breuners, honey. Focus please."

"I. Ate. Earlier."

Oh. That's different.

Nah, these posts won't get old.