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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
This was sent by a friend and I thought it funny and a good truism.

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, and picked it up with both hands to eat. I was stopped suddenly by my wife 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 grasped between both hands, 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.'"

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My neighbor was setting on the couch eating chocolate covered almonds and watching the ball game on tv. He put his hand between the cushons and felt what he thought was a almond he had dropped. His wife had changed the Baby there a few minutes before and a little round hard ball had fallen between the cushons. I bet he looks next time before he sticks something into his mouth. :)
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