My mom is a less than fastidious housekeeper.
One evening my dad returned home from work, walked into the kitchen and teased her, "You know, dear, I can write my name in the dust on the mantel."
Mom turned to him and sweetly replied, "Yes, darling, I know. That's why I married a college graduate."
During a recent visit to Pakistan, I was invited by a village chief, an old family friend, to his ancestral home. After a sumptuous dinner, we sprawled on a thick, soft carpet with huge pillows for the backrest in the lounge.
A domestic server brought two hookahs, placed them at a far end of the room and lit the tobacco in the bowls of the hookahs. Their long pliable tubes, carrying the smoke that passed through water, reached us to inhale.
I was wondering as to why the hookahs were placed at such a long distance from us. Seeing me amazed, the host pointed out, “We should remain as far away as possible from tobacco!”