[TEX MEX RESTAURANT, INT., EVE. HUSBAND AND I ARE HAVING DINNER BEFORE A MOVIE]
ME (tugging frantically on husband’s sleeve): Oh my God lookit lookit lookit!
HUSBAND: What? What? What’s the matter?
ME: Look at that menu!
HUSBAND: [LOOKS AT MENU. LOOKS AT ME. WAITS FOR SOMETHING TO HAPPEN]
HUSBAND: [IS UNDERSTANDABLY NOT IMPRESSED BY HIS WIFE’S BEHAVIOUR]
ME: Just look! That thing! On the bottom! What is it?
HUSBAND: What? What? It’s just some fried…oh.
ME: What is it? I think it’s a lizard. Does that look like a lizard to you?
HUSBAND: It does look like it’s got a head.
ME: Or a dinosaur embryo. Could it be a dinosaur embryo?
HUSBAND: Of course it’s not a dinosaur embryo, where are they going to get a dinosaur embryo? It’s a lizard.
ME: [VERY, VERY HAPPY TO BE MARRIED TO A MAN WHO WILL INDULGE ME IN MY WILLFUL MISINTERPRETATION OF FOOD PHOTOGRAPHY]
HUSBAND [THOUGHFUL]: That’s definitely an embryonic head. You can see where it’s folded over from being in the egg. And that’s some sort of arm hanging over the edge of the skillet. Why is it so fat, though?
ME: Baby creatures always have disproportionately fat middles. Remember what the kids were like?
HUSBAND: Or maybe it’s been genetically engineered to be really fat and meaty.
ME [RIDICULOUSLY HAPPY]: This is brilliant. I’m going to take a photograph.
[I TAKE A PHOTOGRAPH, GIGGLING THE WHOLE TIME. AS I DO SO, OUR WAITRESS ARRIVES WITH OUR DRINKS]
WAITRESS [FROSTY BUT PROFESSIONAL]: Have you decided what you’re having yet?
HUSBAND [VERY QUIETLY]: Dinosaur embryo.
ME: Um…I think I’ll have the steak.