While hiking in the countryside, my friend, Eva, and I spotted a huge bed of mushrooms that we knew to be edible. We gathered a large basketful and sauteed them that night. My husband, Dick, refused to eat them, thinking they might be poisonous. Two weeks later, Eva and I gathered some more mushrooms. This time, Dick joined us.
“How is it that you’re eating the mushrooms tonight,” I asked, “when you wouldn’t touch the ones we brought home two weeks ago?”
“I thought about it,” Dick explained, seriously, “and I figured it would better to be found dead with you two than to try to explain two dead women in our home.”
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