When did the world become so serious?
While wandering through a gift shop recently, I came upon a shelf full of mugs and miniature trophies. Each was emblazoned with a bold line that read, “World’s Greatest Dad.” Because the habitual wise-cracker within me never sleeps, I muttered to the guy next to me, “Shouldn’t there only be one of those?” As often happens, my sarcasm was wasted on the fellow who said, “Whaddya mean?”
Sigh. “I mean, there can only be one ’world’s greatest,’ right?” He looked at me like I had three heads and with a retort that indicated my parents were never married. For the record, they were.
Never wanting to let go of good sarcasm, I asked the same question of the cashier at the register. She got it, but only politely smiled. “Will you please stop now?” my wife pleaded. I did.
The following morning we had breakfast at a local joint that advertised eggs benedict as the special, which is one of my favorite dishes. When we received our meals, I asked the waitress to pass along my compliments to the chef, especially on the hollandaise sauce. When she returned, she said he appreciated the compliment and that the meal was an old family recipe. I said with a wink, “Well, there’s no place like home for the hollandaise.”
Thunk.
Nothing. The wife just stared at her avocado toast. That’s it. I give up.
