Actually a comparison to coffee might make this a better homily, because that’s what we drink in my family. I spent a day with them over the weekend and when that occurs I always come away with something of comedic value. Seventy-five percent of the time it comes from my Great Aunt Mary. She’ll be 88 next month and when she isn’t being racist, she really is a fount of amusement.

We were talking about height, a conversation that always starts with a mention of one of my nephews and how tall he will be. I swear to God, if Aunt Mary knows growth, my nephews are going to be seven-foot-five and have biceps the size of small mountains. So, anyway, after the discussion regarding what it’s like to have such giants in the family, the conversation turned to Aunt Mary’s height and how she probably won’t be getting much taller. There wasn’t much I could say, as I am only an inch taller than her, and I’m afraid I’ve reached my limit as well. But I was still messing with her, because that’s what I do. I wasn’t wearing any shoes, so I said to her -

“I’m taller than you and you’ve got shoes.”

She looks down and, without missing a beat, responds -

“You’ve got toes.”

Then she chuckled at herself.

I totally get it honest.