Cookout

Me, going over the menu for the cookout: Every kind of salad you can imagine. I'm particularly looking forward to the hit dogs. I hope they're like some kind of roadkill.
Austin: I'm sure they'll be fine. Maybe she even hit the wrong letter.
Me, howling laughter: I'm sure she did.
Austin: Why do you do that to me?
Me: I'm sorry, I thought it was obvious that my sister the vegetarian wouldn't have roadkill at her cookout.