Conversations while taking out the trash

Before I get much further, let me preface this post by saying that Yes Dear (wife) and PBJ (youngest daughter) look so much alike they can pass for sisters, particularly from the back or a side profile.  There’s been more than one occasion that I’ve come home from work, had one of them sitting at the computer with their back turned towards me, and had to take a peek at their face to verify which one they were, lest I try to sneak a kiss or make some lewd remark reserved for spouses ears only and end up with a “Dad…GROSS!!” in return.

Nah, that’s never happened before.  Seriously.  Cross my heart and hope to fry die.

Anyways, cut to myself in the kitchen the other afternoon after waking up (remember, I work nights), tying up an overflowing garbage bag.

As I’m leaning over the can, trying to pull the full bag out without tearing it or dumping the top layer of garbage on the floor, I notice out of the corner of my eye PBJ entering the kitchen.

Immediately followed by the unmistakeable sensation of my badumbumbum being goosed, punctuated by a “woo-hoo”.

Startled, I looked up and was relieved to see Yes Dear standing there instead, with a quizzical look on her face.

“What, I can’t cop a feel on my husband once in a while?” she asked.

“For a moment, I swore you were PBJ.”

“Really?  Really?  Your own daughter?”

“I was hoping and praying it wouldn’t be.”

“Not to worry.  She thinks your butt is lumpy and gross.”

“Hey!  That’s not a nice thing to…” I trailed off, thinking better of my answer.  “Uh… that’s probably the only acceptable thing a daughter can say about her dad’s butt.”

“Ya think?”

“Yep.  Maybe I should take it as a compliment, that we have a normal, healthy father-daughter relationship.  No Jerry Springer in this house.”

“You’d better.  Too many weirdos already on my side of the family.”

“Now if she’d start thinking that all guys’ butts are gross, we’d have fewer problems.”

I can only dream…

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