“Words matter,” he said.
She clicked her tongue in exasperation.
“They do!” he insisted. “If we don’t mind our words they betray us. Then it’s our subconscious speaking.”
“Come on,” she said. “You know what I meant! It was just a slip.”
She turned on her side to look at him. “I love you, Babe.”
“Maybe,” he sighed. “But what if I didn’t know you? What if I was some stranger you told that his ass looked like two hippos copulating in a bottomless pit of lard? Do you then think I would’ve gone home with you?”
“Pygmy hippos. Honey!”