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To
Everything There is a Season: . A Time to Weep, A Time to
Laugh.
Ecclesiastes 3
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The Perfect Ham Sandwich
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 picnic table in our backyard, picked
it up with both hands, but was stopped by my wife suddenly at my side.
"Hold Johnny ( our 6 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'.
# # #
Return HOME from The
Perfect Ham Sandwich
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