Little Johnny, a curious 7th grader, was known for asking endless questions in class. He wasn’t trying to be difficult—his mind just worked in wonderfully literal ways, and he loved poking at the logic behind everything.

One day, during English class, he raised his hand and asked his teacher,
“Ma’am, why do we ignore some letters in pronunciation? Like the letter ‘H’ in words such as hour and honour?”

His teacher smiled, adjusting her glasses.
“We don’t ignore them, Johnny. They’re considered silent.”

Johnny nodded slowly, as if filing that information into a very important mental folder. Still, a slight frown lingered on his face, the kind that meant his brain was quietly plotting something.

Later that day, during lunch break, the teacher called him over and handed him her packed lunch.
“Johnny, please take this to the cafeteria and heat it for me,” she said kindly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, taking the container and marching off obediently.

A few minutes passed.

Then Johnny returned.

But instead of a warm lunch, he was holding an empty container.

“Johnny!” the teacher gasped. “What happened? I told you to heat my food—not eat it!”

Little Johnny looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes and a perfectly straight face.

“But ma’am,” he said softly, “I thought the ‘H’ was silent.”