Mrs. Jones was reading a letter at breakfast.
Suddenly she looked up suspiciously at her husband.
“Henry,” she said,
“I’ve just received a letter from mother saying she isn’t accepting our
invitation to come and stay, as we do not appear to want her.
What does she mean by that? I told you to write and say that
she was to come at her own convenience.
You did write, didn’t you?”
“Er, yes, I did,”
said the husband.
“But I couldn’t spell ‘convenience,’
so I made it ‘risk’.”
source::::input from a friend of mine.
natarajan
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