Another story I tell in person a lot, but I don't think I ever wrote down here:
There's a building on the University of Chicago campus, right on the corner of the quad, called Pick Hall. Unlike many other buildings in its vicinity, it was built relatively recently. In fact, I've been told that my grandmother's brother worked on its construction.
So I told an undergraduate acquaintance of mine in passing one day, "my uncle built this building."
"Really?" they replied, all excited. "Your uncle was the architect?"
"No," I said, and emphasized carefully. "My uncle built this building."
There's a building on the University of Chicago campus, right on the corner of the quad, called Pick Hall. Unlike many other buildings in its vicinity, it was built relatively recently. In fact, I've been told that my grandmother's brother worked on its construction.
So I told an undergraduate acquaintance of mine in passing one day, "my uncle built this building."
"Really?" they replied, all excited. "Your uncle was the architect?"
"No," I said, and emphasized carefully. "My uncle built this building."