Mrs. Fleshman goes to the butcher shop to buy a chicken for the Sunday meal. The butcher has only one scrawny chicken left. He puts it on the scale.
“Three pounds,” he says.
“That’s too scrawny; don’t you have something bigger?” Mrs. Fleshman asks.
He pretends to rummage around, and then puts the same chicken back on the scale, while pressing with his thumb.
“Three and a half pounds,” he says.
“That looks better,” says Mrs. Fleshman. “I’ll take them both.”