Johnny slid the photo album from the middle of the table, spun it, and started flipping the pages, forward, back, and forward again. All the while, June argued on.
“It was goats. I was there. Goats I tell you,” she said, waving her hands. “All around the car.”
“They were sheep,” Johnny said, stopping on a page. He peeled a picture off and handed it to June. “I don’t have my glasses,” he said. “What’s there? Sheep? Yes?”
“No,” she answered. “Goats. Just like I said.”
“You old bat. You’re not wearing your glasses either,” pished Johnny. “It was sheep.”