“I can prove it,” Tanya said, scribbling on a napkin.
“This sentence is missing two parts,” she explained. “First, I need a noun.”
Sergio looked at his breakfast.
“Waffle!”
“Now I need a verb.”
He spotted his power tool catalog.
“Sand blasting,” he joked.
Tanya turned over the napkin revealing the nonsensical sentence “I’d love to sand blast her waffles.”
“What’s are you thinking about,” she asked.
“Sex . . .” he conceded. “Still, every seven seconds?”
“I made my point.”
Smirking, Tanya carried the plates to the sink.
Sergio admired her curvaceous backside in silence.