A Very Bad Line

Gran's telephone is very old. The line is bad today.

“Hello?” Gran says. “Sam? Is that you?”

“Hi, Gran! I'm coming on Sunday,” Sam says.

“On Monday? You're coming on Monday?”

“No, Gran. Sunday. SUN-day.”

“Oh, it's sunny? Yes, it's a nice day here too,” Gran says.

Sam tries again, slow and loud. “I am coming to SEE you.”

“You want some tea? Of course! I'll make tea,” Gran says.

Sam gives up. “Yes, Gran. Tea. On Monday. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, dear!” Gran says. She puts down the telephone. “Sunday, Monday — probably the same thing. He'll come. He always does.”

And she was correct. Sam came. It was, in the end, a Tuesday.