Elephant in the Room

She: “I think it is time we talked about the, you know, the elephant  in the room.”

He: “I wondered when you would get round to mentioning that.”

She: “It has been on my mind a long time. I was waiting for you to explain, but it looks like I will be waiting forever.”

He: “Explain? I don’t understand.”

She: “What do you mean, you don’t understand? I’m talking about the elephant in the room.”

He: “I know what you’re talking about, but I thought it was yours.”

She: “What do you mean you thought it was mine?”

He:  ” The elephant. I thought it was your elephant.”

She: “Mine? Why would I need an elephant?”

He: “I don’t know. I thought it best not to ask. As an aide-memoire maybe.”

She: “It is not my elephant. I thought it was yours.”

He: “Mine? Why would I need an elephant?”

She: “I’ve no idea. I thought it might have been a ‘man thing’.”

He: “Let’s get this straight. It’s not your elephant. It’s not my elephant. What the hell is it doing here?”

She: “You mean that for months we have organised our lives around a huge animal that had nothing to do with either of us? Oh, that’s just brilliant. Day after day having to edge round the sides of the room to get from one end to the other, watching TV through its legs as we balanced our meals on trays ever fearful of it having a ‘little accident’. Not to mention the huge insrease in our food and water bills. What are we going to do?”

He:“Entice it out with a row of buns and never mention it again.”


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