I’ve heard a lady, upon seeing a dog respond to commands in a language other than english exclaim “how is the dog going to understand if they’re speaking another language?!?!?!”
I nearly bit my tongue off stifiling laughter.
When I was in my highschool days, we’d all frequent a firepit in the woods to party as highschoolers are known to do. Upon arrival we encountered a group of mid-twenties, well-to-do, whitebread world folks sitting around a very miserable, lacklustre fire. Occasionally throwing on a handful of twigs or cardboard from a beer case, wondering why the hell their fire wasn’t working. Within minutes we had a roaring beast of a fire going, and as the embers started to accumulate one friend turned to another and asked in a slightly astonished tone:
“What are those red things they have under the fire?”
This was a mid-twenties, assumingly college educated individual. I was a late teenager higher than Keith Richards on the peak of Everest, and I was absolutely flabbergasted at the lack of life experience. It was an in joke among the group for a few years afterwards.