She wanted a brownie last night. It was fine with me, and I started to cut one for her. She looked at the pan and an anguished look overtook her face. She threw herself down on the floor with a groan.
"What's the matter? I thought you wanted a brownie!"
"I do-o-o-o," she whined from her pitiful spot on the floor. "But I was assuming they were frosted."