Not everyone experiences Asparagus Pee, so friends who tell you they don't may not be lying. (Although they probably are.) While the ability to produce Asparagus Pee varies genetically, so does the ability to actually smell Asparagus Pee. Therefore, just because a person believes his or her urine is odorless doesn't mean it actually is.
I, unfortunately enough, am one of those individuals who can both produce and detect Asparagus Pee. I mention this because last night Number Ten cooked dinner for a friend and me, and what did she serve? You guessed it.
If I were to ask Ten why she thought it appropriate to feed us a green of such a private and delicate nature, she would probably reply "Because it's chock full of folic acid and phytonutrients, because it's good, because it can be grilled." Something like that.
Ha! She probably expects me to fall for that hook, line, and sinker, like the time she convinced me to pay her three marbles and a broken kite for the privilege of whitewashing her entire front-yard fence while she sat on a barrel in the shade and ate an apple.
But I'm on to her.
Feeding someone asparagus for dinner is like giving someone a magazine subscription for Christmas. In the latter case, once a month the receiver is reminded of your wonderful generosity and thoughtfulness (despite the fact that you are half a decade too old for Seventeen. Although maybe you wouldn't mind reading about The Most Perfect Pair of Jeans For Your Unique Shape.)
It's the same with the asparagus. You can bet your boots that Number Ten is counting on me remembering her finely prepared dinner every time I relieve myself for the next 12 hours, which will be over 24 times.
Oh, Number Ten. You're so transparent.