Two fathers were comparing their parenting skills.
John had been going on and on about how well-behaved and wonderful his son was.
Mike was obviously skeptical. But John insisted:
“Seriously, Mike, I have the perfect son,” John stated matter-of-factly before taking a sip of his coffee.
Mike raised an eyebrow skeptically.
“Does he smoke?”
John shook his head adamantly. “No, he doesn’t.”
“Does he drink too much, then?” Mike continued, a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth.
“No, he doesn’t do that either,” John affirmed with pride.
Mike leaned back in the diner booth, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“Hmm, well does he ever come home late without calling?”
John laughed heartily.
“No, no, not my son. He’s always home whenever I expect him to be there.”
Mike threw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I guess you really do have the perfect son then. How old is this miraculous boy of yours?”
John’s chest puffed out as he smiled widely.
“He’ll be six months old next Wednesday.”
