Yom Kippur with the Joneses

Totally normal, break fast conversation for the Jones family:

(In the living room of the Cohen family in Annapolis, MA, about thirty minutes from the U of M campus. Papa Jones, addresses his friend Ricky from Podiatry school. Ricky’s 25-year old daughter Lindsay, the College Man and I are all in the room, clearly within earshot.)

Papa Jones: So after we all ate dinner together on Friday and you fed my wife that Grey Goose, I tried to get her in bed. She put on her nightie and I went in for it, and she told me she was tired and that she’d give it to me in the morning. So the next day I wake up to take a piss and get back in bed. My wife asks me what time it is and I say, “nine-thirty” and give her that look like, (sing songey) “It’s time!”

(By this point, the College Man and I have curled into the fetal position with our hands over our ears, and Lindsay is staring off in spacey denial.)

Papa Jones (cont’d): So when we’re finished, I look over at Debs and say, “Sorry honey, but I told a little white lie.” And she asks me what I’m talking about, so I say, “It’s only six-thirty!”

I know we just finished Yom Kippur, but in my opinion my father should immediately repent for telling this story in my presence. Adam would agree, but he’s too busy chain-gagging, while pushing these thoughts down deep in his subconscious.