Sometimes I make up words. It's not on purpose or anything; I just can't think of the right one sometimes. So the other night at the restaurant, I was bussing a table, and clutzily knocked over a glass, which rolled off the table and totally broke.
"Don't move," I told the group of four old fisherman at the next table, and picked up the big chunks. "I'm gonna have to get the vacuum, this glass really sharded. Shard.ed? SHARDED.? I guess I mean shattered."
As I walked away, I heard one of the old fishermen whisper to the other, in the most Southern accent you can imagine, "I thought sharded was a shit 'n a fart."