Don't Answer That

My Daddy had a few funny expressions I picked up over the years.

The one that first struck me as hilarious I heard when we lived on Gimli Air Force Base in Gimli, Manitoba. We were in the PMQs (Private Married Quarters) which were reserved for servicemen with families.

The PMQs on this particular base were made of sheet metal. There were constructed to look like normal houses, but there was no insulation, they were just large pieces of metal welded together. We didn't have a basement, so I don't think there was a foundation. Probably just a concrete slab. They were painted regulation yellow or regulation green or regulation beige on the outside (we lived in a yellow one), and the inside had properly finished-looking walls, but I'd be surprised if the insulation value reached R-2.

So, one autumn day, Daddy and I were headed out somewhere. He exited ahead of me, I took up the rear. As so many parents throughout the ages have done, he glanced in my direction and said, "Close the door! What do you think we live in, a barn?!"

And then he added, "Don't answer that."

I nearly doubled over. I've used that expression many times since, and this morning's usage brought it back to mind.

I'd seen my friend L's announcement on facebook that she had attended a Zumba class this morning. I commented, "What's Zumba?" And she replied "It's an exercise class."

I phoned her up and said, "I KNOW it's an exercise class! I meant what kind of exercise! How stupid do you think I am?!" 

Then I thought better of it, and added "Don't answer that!"