As we sat around the table yesterday afternoon, eating Subway sandwiches in the muted sunlight that sifted through our dusty windows, Jason popped up in his seat, looking quite pleased with himself. “I got it!” he shouted.
My stepson and I chewed on and with eyebrows raised, waited for the punchline.
“I just got why they call it Subway,” Jason continued. “I just got that!”
“Yeah,” I chimed in, on a break from my Veggie Delight. “So? What’s to get?” I was picturing the walls in the shop, wallpapered in yellow and black with drawings of underground trains. Seemed pretty simple to me. Subways.
“SUB-way!” Jason pressed on. “Because they make submarine sandwiches…it’s the SUB-way, as in the way to do subs!”
“Ohhhhhhh, I get it!” I smiled. “Duh, SUB-way!” Are we just incredibly dense, or what? Actually, I’m not really surprised at all that I had never figure that out. We’re talking about the girl who just recently figured out that Leggo my Eggo meant “Let go of my Eggo.” For years I hated those commercials. “What the hell does Leggo mean? It’s not even a word! How do you Leggo one’s Eggo?”
And then there’s the Hide-A-Bed incident which happened one evening while Jason and I were pulling out the couch for his mom to spend the night. “Oh my God, I just got that!” I exclaimed during the process. “It’s called Hide-A-Bed because it HIDES A BED!” Jason looked at me with that “you did not just seriously say that” face and rolled his eyes. “What did you think it meant?!” “I don’t know,” I said. “I just thought it was spelled Hyda, like a certain brand of sofa-bed.”
And I probably shouldn’t even divulge this one lest you all just completely give up on me right now and cast me off as the next Jessica Simpson (who thought Buffalo wings were actually made out of buffalo), but up until a few months ago, I didn’t realized that UHAUL trucks were a shortened version of YOU HAUL.
Sad, but very very true! (Ahem) So, how ’bout them Bears?
