Yesterday, my wife, M.F., came home with some shoes from The Shoe Room at Van Maur, which is apparently some sort of shrine to capitalism as expressed via the avatar of women's feet. I thought the shoes looked a little big for her and said so.
"They're for my sister," M.F. informed me. "She wears a size 8, and I wear a 5-and-a-half."
"Wow!" I replied. "Her feet are a lot bigger than yours. Is her penis bigger, too?"
... and that was the end of that conversation ...
... or so I thought: Much later in the day, and without preamble, she said, "No, you and Jack are about the same size."
Age can really be hell on the ol' comic timing.
"They're for my sister," M.F. informed me. "She wears a size 8, and I wear a 5-and-a-half."
"Wow!" I replied. "Her feet are a lot bigger than yours. Is her penis bigger, too?"
... and that was the end of that conversation ...
... or so I thought: Much later in the day, and without preamble, she said, "No, you and Jack are about the same size."
Age can really be hell on the ol' comic timing.
erica:
Hahahahaha. 