'There was that boy Armstrong you saw two years ago. He was nice,' said Momma, trying to help me.
'Momma, Armstrong was the pizza delivery man,' I tried to explain, but Momma never did listen.
'Armstrong was here a few times. I liked him,' said Momma.
'Momma,' I said, 'that was when the cooker broke down - remember? We ate pizzas for almost a week until it was fixed. Armstrong just delivered die pizzas.'