A Friendly Handshake

A Friendly Handshake

“Good morning, young man,” she said. “I see you’ve already met my daughters.”

“Hnmmmhnhnggghhhh!” I said.

“The breakfast will be served momentarily. How would you like your bacon?”

“Mmmmnngggghhmmmm!” I replied.

“Girls. Please.”

“Crisp, please. Thank you, m’am.”

“I quite enjoyed last night,” she purred – adding with frown: “I’ll admit that I thought you were bone dry by the time we finished, though.”

“Hnnnnggghhhhhh,” I said. I had been.