If you have children you will probably relate to this father.
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 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.
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 boys do, only I did it on my
tongue.
Later (after she stopped crying from laughing so hard) my wife said,
"Now you know why they call that mustard..."Poupon.'"
Dave
60 Bugeye
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