The Few, the Proud, the Preserves

My daughter was rummaging through the fridge the other day looking for a snack.
“What’s this?” she asked my wife, holding up a jar of organic blueberry preserves.
“It’s preserves,” my wife said.
“What’s preserves?” the 10-year-old asked.
“It’s like jam,” my wife said. “And it’s not a snack item.”
“I don’t get it,” my daughter said. “Like the Army Preserves?”
“No, that’s the Army Reserves,” my wife said, laughing.
“Well no wonder,” the daughter said. “I said something about the Army Preserves and (her ‘boyfriend’) just laughed at me.”
My mom would have liked that one.