The other day my wife was craving cookies, and since I’m the baker in the house, I dutifully produced a plateful of peanut butter chocolate chunk cookies. (Which, if I may say so myself, were delicious.) As I was in the middle of baking, the delivery boy arrived with our pizza, so in addition to his tip I offered him a cookie from the plate.
Unfortunately, my brain got a wire crossed (it happens frequently in Portuguese) and I offered him a borracha instead of a bolacha. The moment I said it, I knew it wasn’t right, but couldn’t remember why. The delivery boy looked rather puzzled, but politely accepted a cookie and seemed happy with it.
It wasn’t until I shut the door that my brain snapped into focus, and I had a good laugh. No wonder the poor man was confused! I asked him if he’d like to eat an eraser.
(Note for British readers: for “cookie” think biscuit, and for “eraser” think rubber.)