Brian and I are walking down the street. A man walks by in stylized safari getup, including combat boots with the pant legs tucked in, and a wide-brimmed hat.

Me: Do you think he’s a Man in the Yellow Hat fetishist?

B: What?

Me: That man (points exaggeratedly with eyes). Do you think he’s a Man in the Yellow Hat fetishist.

B: Because he’s got a hat, he’s a man in hat fetishist?

Me: Man in the Yellow Hat. Didn’t you ever read Curious George?

B: I’m familiar with the concept, but not really, no.

Me: Well, the Man in the Yellow Hat is his friend. He’s an explorer. He finds him in the jungle.

B: Curious George finds the man, or the man finds George?

Me: They kind of find each other. And then the man takes George home and then he drinks ether and paints a jungle scene on his bedroom wall.

(beat)

B: So you think because he’s a man in a yellow hat, he’s a Man in the Yellow Hat fetishist? Does it work that way?

Me: If he was wearing leather chaps, we’d say he was a leather fetishist. Ergo, man in yellow hat, Man in the Yellow Hat Fetish.

B: But we wouldn’t say the man in leather chaps was a Man in the Leather Chaps fetishist.

Me: (disgruntled silence)

Me: You’re an obtuse dingbat fetishist.

B: (wraps his arms around me) Which is why I like you so much.