As ham sandwiches go, it was perfection. A thick slab of ham, a fresh bun, crisp lettuce and plenty of expensive, light brown, gourmet mustard.
The corners of my jaw aching in anticipation, I carried it to the picnic table in our backyard, picked it up with both hands but was stopped by my wife suddenly at my side.
“Hold Johnny, (our six-week-old son), while I get my sandwich,” she said.
I had him balanced between my left elbow and shoulder and was reaching again for the ham sandwich when I noticed a streak of mustard on my fingers. I love mustard. And I had no napkin. I licked it off.
It was NOT mustard.
No man ever put a baby down faster. It was the first and only time I have sprinted with my tongue protruding. With a washcloth in each hand I did the sort of routine shoeshine guys do, only I did it on my tongue.
Later my wife said, “Now you know why they call that mustard ‘Poupon.'”
“I don’t have a solution, but I admire your problem.”
Two businessmen in New York city are sitting down for a break in their soon-to-be new store. As yet, the store isn’t ready – only a few shelves are set up.
One says to the other, “I bet any minute now some tourist is going to walk by, put his face to the window and ask what we’re selling.”
No sooner are the words out of his mouth when, sure enough, a curious southerner walks to the window, has a peek, and in a Southern drawl asks, “What’re y’all sellin’ here?”
One of the men replies, “Oh! We’re selling goobers here.”
Without skipping a beat, the southern gentleman says, “Well, I see y’all’re doing really good. You only got two left!”
My son, Mitchell, a kindergartener, practices spelling with magnetic letters on the refrigerator: cat, dog, dad, and mom have been proudly displayed for all to see. One morning while getting ready for the day, Mitchell bounded into the room with his arms outstretched. In his hands were three magnetic letters: G-O-D. “Look what I spelled, Mom!” Mitch exclaimed, a proud smile on his face.
“That’s wonderful!” I praised him. “Now go put them on the fridge so Dad can see when he gets home tonight.” That Catholic education is certainly having an impact, I thought, happily.
Just then, a little voice called from the kitchen. “Mom? How do you spell zilla?”
The blonde had been married about a year when one day she came running up to her husband jumping for joy. Not knowing how to react, the husband started jumping up and down along with her. “Why are we so happy?” he asked.
“Honey, I have some really great news for you!” she said.
“Great” he said, “tell me what you’re so happy about.”
She stopped jumping and was breathless from all the jumping up and down. “I’m pregnant!” she gasped.
The husband was ecstatic as they had been trying for a while. He grabbed her, kissed her, and started telling her how wonderful it was, and that he couldn’t be happier.
Then she said “Oh, Honey there’s more.”
“What do you mean more?”, he asked.
“Well we are not having just one baby, we are going to have TWINS!”
Amazed at how she could know so soon after getting pregnant, he asked her how she knew.
“It was easy” she said, “I went to the pharmacy and bought the 2 pack home pregnancy test kit and both tests came out positive!”
When the mother returned from the grocery store, her small son pulled out the box of animal crackers he had begged for, then he spread the animal-shaped crackers all over the kitchen counter.
“What are you doing?” his Mom asked.
“The box says you can’t eat them if the seal is broken,” the boy explained. “I’m looking for the seal.”