[Scene 1: a middle-aged couple at the breakfast table]
"Did I eat the other half of my English muffin?" comes the puzzled inquiry across the table.
"You must have, it's not on your plate," I replied muzzily over my cup of tea.
[Scene 2: the next day]
"Mom, what did I just step on?" wonders Crash. I peek under the table. Crash's foot is firmly planted on top of half an English muffin smothered in Welch's Grape Jelly. No dear, you didn't eat that muffin after all.
And can anyone tell me why I'm supposed to know what's happening to other people's muffins and feet?