My senior year in high school, I started to take my grandmother out to lunch once a month. At some point, my Dad and Uncle told me I should keep her from drinking alcohol because she was diabetic. So when she ordered some creme de menthe following a meal of oysters and bread, I did my duty and told her she wasn’t supposed to drink because she was diabetic.

“I’m 76 years old and I can have what I want. And besides, creme de menthe isn’t alcohol. It’s dessert.”

I put the line in a couple of plays and it always got a good snort out of the audience.