I was flipping through television channels this evening (something I do very well, by the way) and I saw that The Sound of Music was playing.

“I hate that show,” I told Lisa.

“Really?”

“Yes, ever since you played a prostitute in it when we gave it as our annual musical in high school. I just can’t stand to watch it.”

“A prostitute?” Lisa exclaimed. “I was a postulate, not a prostitute! There aren’t any prostitutes in The Sound of Music, you nincompoop!”

My eyebrows raised. "Oh." (long pause) “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Lisa said.

(longer pause) “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

A couple of minutes of silence pass.

"What's a postulate?" I ask.

"Someone who is learning to be a nun."

"Oh. That explains your costume. That's quite a bit different than a prostitute, isn't it?"

"Yes, I'd say so."

Another couple of minutes of silence.

“Well, then, all that said, would you like to watch The Sound of Music tonight?” I asked.

“Are you kidding? I hate that show.”