Sent to me this morning........

I Love Mustard. (This is a true story. If you have children you will probably relate to this father.)
As ham sandwiches go, it was perfection: a thick slab of ham on a fresh bun with 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. "Here, 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 fancy mustard . . "Poupon."
:yak:

:hihi: That was good.

That was gnarley.

LMAO:laughs:

That Rocked!!

And that's why Dads have that funny look on their faces.:blush: I think I'll finish my dry heave now...

Oh chit :yak: :hihi: thats bad