"Changing Diapers"

During a long trip, my wife and I stopped at a
gas station to, amongst other things, change
our son's diaper. Being a considerate husband,
I carried my son back to the men's room to
take care of it, rather than letting my wife do it.

I noted the baby changing station sign on the
ladies' room door, but lack of one on the men's
room door. Sure enough, upon entering the
men's room, I saw the only available wall space
was taken up by a condom machine.

While taking my son back to give to my wife,
I thought of the message the condom
manufacturers might be trying to get across:
"If you'd used our product, you wouldn't need
a baby changing station in the men's' room."

----------------------

"Ham Sandwich"

As ham sandwiches go, it was perfection. A thick
slab of ham, a fresh bun, crisp lettuce and plenty
of expensive, light brown, gourmet mustard. The
corners of my jaw aching in anticipation, I carried it
to the picnic table in our backyard, picked it up with
both hands but was stopped by my wife suddenly
at my side. "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 in each
hand I did the sort of routine shoeshine boys do,
only I did it on my tongue. Later my wife said,

"Now you know why they call that mustard 'Poupon.'"