Hey! What's That in Your Pants?

Sometimes I find things to be funny that really aren't that funny.

Grammar, for instance. And making up words. Today a friend and I were laughing about the time she used the word "agreeance" (as in, you and I feel the same way about something, so we are in agreeance), and I thought it was kind of funny, until I realized she was SERIOUS and then it was just hysterical.

And my oldest niece, when she was younger, really liked to go shopping for clothes, and she would occasionally pick up a single article of clothing, like a shirt or a jacket or something, and say, "this is a cute clo."

Get it? Because "clo" would be the singular of the plural word "clo(th)es?"

And tonight, Todd and I had dinner at one of our favorite neighborhood haunts, Fat Jimmy's Pizza. As we were walking out, I noticed a crayon drawing of a pizza that a kid had done, stuck up on the wall, with the caption boldly proclaiming, "Fat Jimmy's Rule!"

Get it? Like the place is named for a bunch of Jimmies, all of them fat? Hilarious!

But then sometimes, I don't think things are nearly as funny as other people do. Today, in the conference room, one of the other prosecutors was handling a shoplifting case, and they were discussing the issue of restitution. The grocery store guy was explaining how they were owed restitution because they couldn't resell the items once they had crossed the threshold of the store door.

Trying to be helpful, I interjected, "Yeah, no one wants meat that's been in someone's pants."

And the room erupted.

Seriously, people, I was talking about steaks. What THEY were thinking, I just don't know.