When I was in 5th grade, I had a friend named Brian Rose. He had a crazy imagination and a random sense of humor at a time when random senses of humor weren’t very common. (At least among 5th graders kids they weren’t common. We’re talking 1980, back when random was alternative.)
One day in the library, Mrs. Hogan asked our class what kinds of things we liked to read about. Brian raised his hand and said “Kitty Litter.” I LOVED it. I was absolutely THRILLED with the answer. Brian had been on a kitty litter kick in recent days. Whenever a question was posed, his answer was always “kitty litter.” But this was his boldest attempt yet.
But then things got weird. First Mrs. Hogan smiled. And when the laughter had died down, she asked Brian “what kind of kitty litter?” Brian didn’t really know how to answer that. It took a brief conversation before Mrs. Hogan realized that he really was talking about actual kitty litter. Then Mrs. Hogan promptly blew my mind.
“Oh. I thought you meant kids’ literature. Kiddy Lit.” I was absolutely shocked. Kids literature! Never in a million years did i think that “kitty litter” could mean anything else. And what were the odds that Brian’s random answer would be right?
I don’t think he wanted to be right. He wanted to be random. But your answer can’t be random and correct at the same time. Maybe that’s why I never heard him talk about kitty litter again.