Late one afternoon Terry asked, "Is he going to sue the doctor?"
I replied, asking, "He who?"
"Clint." (Clint is our oldest son.)
I asked Terry, "What doctor?"
"The doctor who cut off his legs!"
"Sweetie," I said, "Nobody cut off Clint's legs."
"Yes, they did!"
"No, dear. Clint is fine. He has his legs."
"You're wrong! The doctor cut off his legs and replaced them with marble!"
The disagreement continued for a minute. I wasn't making headway. I called our son and asked him to stop by on his way home from work. Clint arrived at our house, surprised to learn of the amputation of his legs. He pulled up his pant legs and showed Terry his two dead-fish-white shins, so Terry could be certain Clint still had legs.
Terry smiled and shrugged...another delusion blown out of the water. He didn't have a leg to stand on. (pun)
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