“I have an apple that thinks it's a pear. And a bun that thinks it’s a cat. And a lettuce that thinks it's a lettuce."

"It’s a clever lettuce, then."

"Hardly," she said with a delicate snort. "Why would anything clever think it’s a lettuce?"

"Even if it is a lettuce?" I asked.

"Especially then," she said. "Bad enough to be a lettuce. How awful to think you are a lettuce too.”