The Wonderhubby is notorious for telling some of the worst and corniest jokes known to man.
If there is a bad pun to be made, he will surely make it. Even if it's so obvious that no one needed to really say it out loud, he will.
The kids long ago took to charging him 25 cents for every groaner. He never actually pays up. If he did, though, let us just say that they could all retire to the Bahamas and live comfortably forever. But I digress.
Fast forward to tonight's dinner at the lovely IHOP.
There is totally nothing like having breakfast for dinner. It's even better when you have a coupon. But again, I digress.
Wonderhubby is regaling the Roo-girl and me with some bad story or three -- and throws in something that left both of us groaning. (I couldn't repeat it now if I tried, and it really would be better if I didn't.)
"That's a quarter," Roo announces sternly. "In fact, that was so bad, I'm going to charge you 50 cents."
"Ha," I say. "Maybe you should charge him 'P. Diddy' instead."
Insert teenage eyeroll here.
"Yeah, or Jay-Z," snickers Wonderhubby.
"Or Tupac Shakur," I giggle.
The Roo sits bold upright in her seat and gapes at me.
I choke on my Swedish pancake. Wonderhubby snorts his scrambled egg.
Tupac Shapiro, the Jewish rap star.