“Why, do you plan on writing letters while you exercise?” I joked.

She gave me a quizzical look.  “Now what did I do, mister?”

“My dear Auntie, you need …”

WHAM!

Ouch.  I hated it when she would hit me in the head with her umbrella. 

“What did I say now, auntie?” I asked.

WHAM!

“You said it again, naughty nephew.  Do not call me Auntie.  Now, stationary and stationery — how can I tell the difference?”

“It’s elementary, dear Watson.  If it has an ‘e’ in it, it goes in an envelope (see how envelope has ‘e’?).  If there’s no ‘e’ in it, there’s no envelope.’”

“Makes sense, I guess, said Aunt Ruth.  “May I try some examples?”

“Be my guest!”

“Herman Waxblatz is complementary.”

“If you mean he says nice things, he’s complimentary.”

“No, I mean he looks good standing next to my Picasso.  He complements the painting well.”

“Oh, I see.  Give me the next example please.”

Aunt Ruth thought a moment.  “My stationery is really heavy writing paper.  It’s so heavy that I can’t move it.  Because I can’t move it, it’s stationary.  I call it my stationary stationery.”

“Sigh,” I sighed.  “Aunt Ruth, that wasn’t even particularly clever.”

“Hey, complain to the front office.  I’m not writing this story, you know.”

“I know, I know.”

“And finally,” she continued.  “I had a myriad of fans at the First Weekly Aunt Ruth Grammar Story Fan Club and Grill (”Cheesy burgers for cheesy stories”) meeting last week.  I had myriad fans.”

“You got it.  Both are correct.”

The next morning we were awakened early by Madame Liberia Ad.  She was frantic.

“Oh we’ve got trouble,” she said.  “Right here in Grammar City, with a capital G that rhymes with T that stands for Triond.”

“What’s wrong, Myriad, Madame Liberia Ad?” I asked.

“The Triond Readers are revolting!”

“They seem like nice people to me,” replied Aunt Ruth.

“No, I mean there’s been an uprising.  It’s not your fault, but this story is wallowing in bad puns and stale jokes.  You must go now.”

We hopped into the Time Machine, waved good-bye to Myriad the Liberia Ad, and in no time we were back home.

I was thirsty and needed a beverage to numb my senses a bit.  As fate would have it, there was a bottle of wine on the dining table with a note.  “Thanks for going to Liberia.  Enjoy the wine, on the house.  Sincerely, The Author.”  It was even elderberry wine!

I poured a glass of this free elderberry wine. 

Aunt Ruth as usual declined.  “I think it’s some sort of story prop,” she warned.

Whatever.  I closed my eyes and rested a moment.  Time travel certainly takes a lot out of a person.

“You look nice today,” a voice said cheerfully.

It wasn’t Aunt Ruth’s voice.

“What was that?” I asked, looking around.

“Hey, where’d you get those shoes?” the voice inquired.  “I love them!”

“Who said that?” I asked, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up.  This was kind of spooky.

“You’ve been working out lately, haven’t you?  Looking good, looking good,” the voice continued.

“All right, what’s the deal?”  I was a bit nervous but also getting annoyed.  Someone was playing a joke on me.  “Show yourself!” I demanded.

“Here I am, on the table.”

“On the table?  The only thing on the table is the elderberry wine,” I said.

“Exactly.  I’m complimentary.”