ralph came down to breakfast wearing a white shirt with an orange tie.
ramona immediately sent him back upstairs to change into something more suitable.
he did as he was told, coming back down with a blue shirt and a red and blue striped tie, but later, after finishing his pink grapefruit, began to complain.
“what difference does it make how i dress in here? nobody can see me.”
“we have been over this before,” ramona replied without looking up from the “arts and leisure” section of the sunday new york times. “we have to learn to make correct presentation second nature. and when we have made it second nature, then - “
“i know, then we make it third nature.”
“exactly.”
ralph began eating his buttered toast - he had mastered the art of eating it with correct sized bites - and felt the urge to ask ramona when the day would come.
but he knew that she would not give him a straight or satisfactory answer.
just then the doorbell rang.
who could it be at this time of the morning?
ramona put the new york times down and got up.
“remember,” she told ralph, “whoever it is, do not say anything, anything at all, unless i give you the signal. ”
“i understand.”
ramona headed to the door. how fortunate, she thought, that she had had ralph change his shirt and tie!
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