After an enthusiastic recommendation from my wife, I began listening to the audiobook version of Frank McCourt’s 'Teacher Man'.
“I love it, but his writing style is so disjointed,” I complained. “He refers to characters I don’t know and introduces them a half hour later.”
My wife was as confused as I was, but I soldiered on, disoriented by the jumpy story line. It wasn’t until the end of the book that my dilemma was explained—I had set the iPod to Shuffle mode.
During a visit to our friend’s home in Canada, we were welcomed with a wonderful breakfast. But my six-year-old daughter was not impressed.
"Your pancakes are smaller than my mom’s," she told him.
He replied, "That’s because of the exchange rate."
My mother, a meticulous housekeeper, often lectured my father about tracking dirt into the house. One day he came in to find her furiously scrubbing away at a spot on the floor and launching into a lecture.
"I don’t know what you’ve brought in," she said, "but I can’t seem to get this out."
He studied the situation for a moment and, without a word, moved a figurine on the window-sill where the sun was streaming in. The spot immediately disappeared.