I've been spending the holidays at my parents' house and she visited this evening. When I teased her about a small mistake she'd made this afternoon, she declared, "Fine! I will go punish myself with spaghetti."
Mom had prepared spaghetti for dinner this evening and protested that eating it wasn't punishment. (It wasn't. I should make that clear.)
"No," said Enesa. "You know, I will hit myself with spaghetti."
Then, as the heavens opened and angel choirs sang, I asked, "You mean beat yourself with a wet noodle?"
I love my friend, and I suppose that if you're a low-carb fiend, I could, indeed, punish you with spaghetti.
Soon to follow: Random Word Facts about something that puzzled Dickens. (I so need that Muppet Show Pigs in Spaaace music and voiceover for a moment like this.)