Some Questions Are Stupid

“Would you like to see a video I found?” I ask Katie as she comes out of her studio.

“I have polyurethane all over my hands right now,” she says, holding up her hands, which are exactly as described, “so I can’t right now.”

Later, after she has scrubbed her hands in mineral spirits and then soap and water, and shown me her still-stained cuticles with a certain amount of chagrin, I ask, “Now, would you like to watch an English Bulldog snore?”

“Of course I would,” she says, with a look that implies that, although she loves me, she thinks the questions that I sometimes ask are pretty dumb.