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Because sometimes they are almost as amusing as conversations with my kids.

Scene: My cubicle at the office, around 10 a.m.  My mom called to ask a question.

Mom: I’m sorry to bother you at work, but I need to know what that thing is called that my friends gave me at my retirement party.

Me: That wine tasting cup?  I have no idea.  Why?

Mom: Yeah, that.  I’m trying to write thank you notes and want to refer to it by name.  Didn’t someone call it something that started with an s?  Somm-something?

Me: Sommelier?  That’s not the cup, that’s the guy that uses it.

Mom: Are you sure?  Then what’s the other thing called?

Me: I don’t know, why don’t you just call it a wine tasting cup?

Mom: Because I want to know what it is really called.

Me: Fine.  Let me google it.  [hoping my nearby coworkers are enjoying their impromptu wine lesson]  Here we go, it’s a Tastevin.

Mom: A what?

Me: It’s pronounced taht-VAHN.

Mom: Okay…how do you spell that?

Me: T-A-S-T-E-V-I-N.

Mom: T-A-S-T-B-I-N.

Me: No!  T-A-S-T-EEEEEEEE-V-as-in-Victor-I-N.  [acutely aware that at least 6 people can clearly hear my end of the conversation]

Mom: T-A-S-T-V-I-N.

Me: [getting annoyed]  Mother!

Coworker with adjoining cubicle: [unable to keep from laughing any longer]

Me: You do realize that my coworkers can hear me and probably now think I am insane.

Mom: Oops. [laughing]  I’m sorry!  One more time.

Me: Taste.  Vin.  V-I-N.

Mom: Oh!  So like you’re tasting wine.

Me: [bangs head against desk]

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