I was taking a lasagna to my parents house for our weekly dinner. This is the conversation T and G had in the backseat of the van.
G: Mmm, Mom made basagna. I like basagna.
T: No, G, it's not basagna with a B. [insert weary sigh here] It's masagna with an M.
G: Oh, I get it. Basagna.
T: G! [shakes head at poor sister who will never learn to speak properly]
Me: Actually, T, it's lasagna, with an L. [T returns look that clearly says Mom's lost her marbles]
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