Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Story from a sermon in Iowa

The pastor, a slender man who loves his study and eating meat, gave this story:

I love mustard, and it was time for a picnic. My wife had made me a wonderful sandwich--thick slices of ham with a generous dollop of mustard and a leaf of romaine lettuce on a whole wheat bread--and I was just about to eat it when my wife asked me to hold our son while she went to the bathroom.

While holding our son in one hand and the sandwich in the other, I noticed that there was mustard on my arm.  However, with the sandwich in one hand and my son in the other, I couldn't do anything about it--until I realized I could lick the mustard off my arm.  What genius!

I licked the mustard off my arm.

It was not mustard.

And at the same time, my dear sweet wife came out of the loo, noticed what I had done and my attempt to wash it off with as much water as the fountain could deliver, and was laughing so hard I was afraid she would pass out.

(any resemblance to Ben is purely intentional, of course, but the real story is that I sent this joke to a former pastor, who--to my horror--read it before Wednesday night prayer meeting)


  1. Oy. Uff da. Oy again. The Lord has been merciful and I've never tasted of that particular Dijon.

  2. i hope not.
    lets reserve that for the episcopalian ministers.


  3. Reminds me of the time my family came home with soft-serves from McDonalds and my daughter (about 10 or so at the time) had her chocolate one. Well our family cat appeared and was immediately picked up and then after a bit let back down. The soft-serve was so good that my daughter couldn't resist licking that deposit on her sleeve but surprisingly, it wasn't the same!

  4. that is so NOT like a cat. unless, of course, she also had sand in her arms at the time.