Nailed

My son crawled out of bed tonight and announced to us that he needed his toenails clipped. I thought this was the funniest thing I had ever heard — at least a very creative excuse not to go to sleep (what if a long nail caught on the comforter?!) — but I immediately knew that laughing would not be received well by thelovelywife. I stifled my laughter in my elbow pit.

Without looking up from her magazine my wife dryly replied, “Son, we do not trim toenails every night. Go back to bed.” Which he promptly did.

See, I would have blown that exchange in any myriad of ways.