Overheard at my dinner table:
Oldest son, clutching steak knife: "Dad, when I stab you I'll use a sharper blade so it's quicker and less painful."
Me, a little choked up: "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in ages. You're the best son a father could ask for."
Middle son: "What about me? I can stab you."
Me: "You're a good boy too."
Lovely Bride: Soft mewling.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
It's The Small Things
Posted by Snag at 4:26 PM
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
It must be lovely to have children that love you so much. All I get is clay ashtrays.
Guess you won't be needing that new liver. You're not going to live long enough! And I'm thinking they'll be the ones to sell your kidneys, the kidneys they've removed!
"Can we have your liver then?"
You know what kind of shards you can get from a clay ashtray? I'd watch it if I were you.
Nobody would want my liver, except as a scientific curiousity. Or a sponge.
I think they thought they were making clay-mores.
Post a Comment