Exercise

The shirt reads, "Aaahhh... Tell me more about this "exercise" of which you speak.

Deceiving the Mind of a Child

HER: Make lunches for the kids. There's only two slices of bread left, so make bologna roll-ups for Brad and Julian, and make a Peanut Butter Fluff for Donovan.

ME: I'll go buy some bread at Mr. Mike's.

HER: You don't have time.

ME: We don't leave for school for 20-minutes, I can be in and out of Mr. Mike's and back here in 10 minutes.

HER: I'm leaving in 5 minutes.

ME: Sooooo ...

HER: Fine, I'll make the sandwiches.

ME: [confused] Ummm, what just happened here?

HER: [tears] Would you just do what I ask?

ME: [looking at the calender, noticing the skull and cross bones that I've made in light pencil, starting today and continuing for the next 5 days -- it's THAT time of the month] Right. Sure.

HER: [much slamming of keys and stomping, grabbing tissues from a box]

ME, MOSTLY TALKING TO MYSELF: There's only two slices of bread ...

HER: I said that. Just make--

ME: Don doesn't like the heel.

Why do we call the end part of the bread "the heel"? Whoever thought THAT would make sense, that people would want to eat "the heel" of ANYTHING?

HER: Just turn the heel upside down and put the fluff on the crusty side of the bread. He'll never know the difference.

ME: You want me to deceive my child, trick him into thinking he's got a sandwich made with the yummy inner parts of the loaf of bread, by smearing fluffer nutter on the crusty side of the bread.

HER: [more slamming, more stomping] Goddamn it, JP.

Forgive me, Donovan, when I'm old and grey. And please -- don't give me sandwiches in the nursing home, made with the heel side of the bread turned inside to the sandwich.