Mustard...

I got this cute email earlier this week. Hope you find it as funny as I did.

I LOVE MUSTARD
If you have children, you can relate.. If you don't have children, this is what it's like!
As ham sandwiches go, it was perfection:
A thick slab of ham, a fresh bun, crisp lettuce,
and plenty of expensive, light brown, gourmet mustard.
The corners of my jaw aching in anticipation,
I carried it to the table in our backyard, picked it up with both hands but was stopped by my wife suddenly at my side.
"Hold Johnny (our six-week-old son) while I get my sandwich," she said.
I had him balanced between my left elbow and shoulder and was reaching again for the ham sandwich when I noticed a streak of mustard on my fingers.
I love mustard.
I had no napkin.
I licked it off.
It was not mustard.
No man ever put a baby down faster.
It was the first and only time I have sprinted with my tongue protruding.
With a washcloth in each hand, I did the sort of routine shoeshine boys do, only I did it on my tongue.
Later (after she stopped crying--from laughing so hard) my wife said, "Now you know why they call that mustard.... "Poupon."

The wonderful world of babies.........