“There was a merchant who had a donkey that could understand English. They used to walk around and talk to each other. Once, they saw a Zebra on their way and the merchant asked the donkey, “What is it?”. The donkey answered, “A Zebra” and his master replied, “Nice donkey! Smart donkey!”. They saw a Caterpillar. The merchant asked what it was, the donkey said “A Caterpillar” and the merchant said, “Nice donkey! Smart donkey!”. They saw a Duck, a Crow, an Ox and they repeated the procedure. Then they saw a reptile – you know, the one that changes its color… It is called a.. hmmm…”
I stammered.
My mom, brother and sister duly burst into a chorus, “A Chameleon!”.
I smiled down upon them indulgently and said, “Nice donkeys! Smart donkeys!”.

The story was an instant hit and since I was voted unanimously to be a gem of a story-teller, I was asked to repeat it to my father. I did that and all went well till the Chameleon.
“they saw this reptile that is called… You know, the one that becomes green or red at will – changes its color and hmmm… remember that day we saw one in that park..”
I faltered, paused, stopped and looked up at him hopelessly. He smiled my smile and said, “The reptile that changes its color? Well well… Nice story. Smart story!”.