“Okay hotshot, you got us here, now you can get us home,” chided a grumpy, frumpy Aunt Ruth. 

I couldn’t blame her for being a wee bit upset.  My intent had been to transport us to sixteenth century England to enjoy some libations, perhaps in the company of Marlowe or even maybe the Bard of Avon himself.

Somehow I got the settings on the Time Machine wrong, and we ended up in twentieth century Liberia instead.

“I told you we should have taken Herman Waxblatz’s machine.  Herman’s a smart guy.  Not only that, but he’s nice too.  He’s the most complementary guy I know.”

“You mean he blends in well with the wallpaper?” I asked.  “Or does he always wear something to match whatever you’re wearing, which would be a clown costume since you wear circus tents for dresses?”

WHAM!

Her umbrella struck me right smack on top of my head.  I deserved it.

I know my comment was derogatory, but I was getting rather annoyed at hearing all about Herman’s Time Machine.  My Time Machine was just as cool.  I just had to work on accuracy of time and destination a bit.  Well, perhaps more than a bit.

“What do you mean about Herman blending and matching?” asked a confused Aunt Ruth.

“You said Herman is complementary.  When something is complementary to something else, it fits in with, or goes along with, or matches with the other thing.”

“Anyway, how did you know I used complementary instead of complimentary?” she asked defiantly.

“Look up there,” I pointed.  “The words are right there.  This story is being conveyed in a written form.”

“Oh I see them.  So you’re saying that I should use complimentary and not complementary?”

“You got it, old lady.”

“Sigh,” she sighed.  “Can’t you be a bit more complimentary?  And besides, how am I supposed to remember this?”

“Well, for complimentary, think of how I am saying something nice about you.  Complimentary has an ‘i’ in it, and ‘I’ am saying something nice.  For complementary, just remember it’s the other word.”