He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
(understandably so, I am hooked to HP, having read and enjoyed the fifth book recently)

Visualize this scene:

You are talking to a friend, and it suddenly strikes you that etiquette demands an enquiry into the well-being of her spouse (who, unfortunately isn't on the scene of action at that moment) as well. Now, the memory being a staunch Brutus-ian, does a "you-too" and leaves you floundering in a sea of names, none which sound like a possible match for the friend's spouse.

The conversation then goes
"How is he"
"He?"
You can't very well say "your husband", 'cause oddly enough it sounds rude.

This leaves you with no options but to say one of the following:-

1. Your better half [the adjective is subject to debate]
2. The guy who was with you on the pandal stage that day, yes the one you were garlanding [very crass, I agree]
3. Select one from the sea, XYZ. [This one will decide who goes red, either she will blush if you hit bulls-eye (assuming she is the recently married sorts), or you will be embarrassed if you don’t]

Most times, I mumble something, after thinking real hard, and I mean real hard.

And off late, to add to my woes, their babies now.
*scratch head*
Was it a boy or a girl?
*scratch, scratch, scratch*

You know you are getting older, when the probability of you going grey very young in life is due to the fact that your speedily-deteriorating-single-status friends (and a temperamental memory) are trying their very best to make it happen

Current Music: To Be With You - Mr Big