Tessa tells a joke
Wednesday, March 7th, 2007We were in the drive-through at Papa John’s the other day (actually a first for us, unlike many American families we don’t eat pizza “regularly” much less weekly). They have a special if you pickup instead of getting delivery – $5 for a medium, $7 for a large, one topping only.
Now to fully appreciate this story, you should know that I like Hawaiian pizzas. Sara does not. We are also both cheap, especially right now. And of course, due to the big announcement, Sara’s usual range of acceptable pizza toppings (pepperoni, sausage, ham, or extra cheese) is currently reduced to extra cheese only.
So let’s back up about 10 minutes. I go in to the store, find out what deals they have, then order 1 extra-cheese medium and 1 pineapple pizza. Hey, Sara doesn’t mind the ham so why not get pineapple when I have the chance?
When I tell Sara what I’ve ordered, she laughs. Then she suggests we could pick up some ham to make mine a full Hawaiian. The Walmart is about 20 seconds away, and we have 10 minutes to wait, so why not? We drive over, and Sara goes in to pick up some ham for lunches and my pizza.
So far I’ve left out the kids, but they are sitting patiently in the backseat, behaving about as well as any kids possibly can. We’ve explained we’re getting pizza, and they are quite excited – well, Selah is. Tessa doesn’t like pizza, but Selah’s living it up with a rousing “Pizza! Pizza!” chant. I continue to explain that mommy is going in to get some ham for daddy’s pizza, because we’re too cheap to pay for two toppings. We talk about ham, that it’s a meat, that it comes from pig, that kind of thing. In our house, explanation and discussion rule the day (well, when mass chaos doesn’t).
So Sara gets back, and we head back over just in time to pick up our fresh Papa John pizzas. As we’re waiting at the drive-through, we’re still discussing the ham. Then, Tessa has something to say:
“What’s ham’s last name?”
Well, we’ve been talking about last names for awhile, so this isn’t completely a surprise, but we don’t really have an answer. Sara starts to explain, “ham doesn’t have a last name, Te…” when Tessa interrupts.
“Meat!” she yells out delightedly.
“is that a joke?” Sara asks as I try to stop laughing. Tessa seems puzzled by our laughter, instead of her usual extra-large grin and beaming pride. We tried a few more times, but it seems Tessa wasn’t intending to tell a joke – that or she suddenly got bored.
So remember, kids. “Ham Meat, it’s nice to meet you.” Or “Mr. Meat”, if you’re being polite.
