Last month, one of the 8-year-olds — let's call him Bud — insisted that he didn't remember me. (I taught him when he was 5.) This morning, however, he changed his tune.
BUD: I remember you now. ME: Yeah? I guess I'm pretty old now. I'm even married. To Matt, that guy over there. BUD: You married HIM?! And you didn't even invite me to the wedding.
BUD (to Matt): You're married? MATT: Yep. BUD: Where's your ring? (Grabbing his right hand.) MATT: Right here. On my left hand. BUD: I got my eye on you. You better treat her right.