"If you did run down the street..." my father began to say, in reference to my recent post about hot dogs. He was already starting to turn a violent maroon color, in anticipation of the joke he was about to tell.

"If you ran anywhere," he continued, smiling smugly, "you certainly waited until you had finished scarfing down your hot dog."

I waited a minute for his laughter to subside. "While that may be true," I responded, "you're still an asshole."