Way to Go, Tough Guy
- •My 12-year-old son last night at 10PM, "Guys, someone keeps ringing the doorbell." No one ever rings our doorbell this late.
- •Me, Protector of the House, speaking in my deepest voice toward the door, "Who is it?!?"
- •Mystery voice, "I have your pizza."
- •Protector of the House, sceptical and still in deep voice mode, "We did not order a pizza!"
- •Mystery voice now sounding soft and sad, "You don't want your pizza?"
- •Me, still in Protector of the House role, "We did not order a pizza!"
- •My wife, arriving at the window near the door as the Mystery Person retreats, "That was a Domino's driver and it was a woman." Way to be a man, David.
- •Me, now shifting into 'I Feel Like an Ass' mode, opening the front door to say, "I'm sorry..." and helping her determine that Domino's just had the wrong address.
- •My wife upon my return, "You could have offered to buy the pizza. It would have been a nice treat." Ah, my dear sometimes Protector and Provider roles have little common ground. Said of course in my deepest voice.