The steaming kimchi bowl noodle on the dining table seemed delectable. I was famished. I grabbed it while asking who owned it. But without waiting for a response, I quickly took a mouthful of noodles with a pair of chopsticks.
“Mom! That’s mine!” Markus exclaimed. But not fast enough.
“Mom asked a question and then she ate my soup before getting an answer,” Markus told Gabriel who was standing close by. Pretending to protest, he was more amused than annoyed.
“With Mom, that’s just a rhetorical question,” Gabriel said.
Still chewing, I added, “Yeah, that’s a rhetorical question and it needs no answer.” Mom gets away with it.
A few minutes later, I was in the kitchen when Gabriel saw the big umbrella I had been asking him and Markus about.
“Oh, here’s the umbrella, Mom!” Gabriel said.
“Yeah, I know. I saw it in the trunk of the car,” I said.
“And you were accusing us of losing it in school.” It was his turn to accuse me.
“No, I was not accusing you. I was ASKING you a question: Did you leave it at school?” I defended myself.
“But that’s just a rhetorical question,” Gabriel replied.
Now how do you get away with that? (another rhetorical question)