The Impossible Question

People always seem to ask me the same impossible question and I never quite know what to say. I stand there, usually standing, and stare at them with what has been described as "puzzled" or "blank." People usually give up at this point and walk away, remaining complete strangers, never understanding the truth. But on rare occasions someone will relish in my inability to answer this impossible question and instantly befriend me. I usually collect these rare moments and store them in a small wooden box I've had since I was four. The difficult part about all this is that I can never seem to find this box when I need it.