Grandpa Sam would always order a bowl of corn flakes with milk.

I never saw him complain about a thing until one day, right after our food was set on the table, he called the waiter.

My sister and I had never seen him upset.

The conversation went something like this:

"Waiter, taste this cereal."
"Why, is there something wrong with it?"
It was obvious that Grandpa was upset.
"Just taste it!"
The waiter reached for the bowl.
"I'll bring you fresh cereal.
Maybe the milk was on the table too long."
Grandpa raised his voice.
"Taste the cereal, now!"
The waiter was apologetic.
"You're one of my best customers.
Why should I taste it? This is not a big deal.
I don't want to argue with you. I'll get you a new bowl."
Grandpa was red in the face. He raised his voice even louder,
and a few patrons looked over. I had recently tasted sour milk,
and was hoping that grandpa would not ask me to taste his bowl of cereal.
"TASTE THE CORN FLAKES!"
The waiter was so intimidated, that he sat down at the table.
"All right, I'll taste it. Where's the spoon?"
Grandpa smiled.
"Aha."

Robert Cohen
Clipped from: http://www.notmilk.com/