It was Doc who noticed it first. He’s trained to be observant, of
course.
“Dudley, me lad,” said Doc, “are you on a diet?”
Dud, whose body would fall into the “just right” category, shook his
head.
“Not me, Doc. Why do you ask?”
“Every day, for years, you put sugar in your coffee. You didn’t this
morning.”
Dud straightened himself up grandly and turned to his rapt audience.
“I discovered something about myself, Doc. Yes, in looking over my
life, I’ve come to a conclusion.
“It all began right after Anita and I were married,” Dud said. “One
morning she came up and whispered to me that my life would be
greatly enriched if I were to remove that dead tree in the back
yard.
“Then she made me my favorite breakfast one morning, French toast
with sourdough bread, and she sat in my lap and said if that sagging
post on the porch were to be replaced, it just might cause extreme
happiness to burst forth upon our stage.”
“Is there a point to this?” Steve asked.
[to top of second
column] |
Dud sipped his coffee and grinned.
“So last month, she came up behind me and put her arms around my
neck and started feminine-wiling on me and asked if I’d get my
pickup painted so she wouldn’t be embarrassed when she rode with
me.”
“Dud,” said Doc, “I can see your truck isn’t painted, and I drove by
the other day and your porch post still leans, and I thought I
noticed that dead tree still out in your back yard.”
“You’re right, Doc. That was my big discovery and why I no longer
put sugar in my coffee.”
The others stared at Dud.
Dud just grinned. “I found out I’m sucrose intolerant.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by “The Backpocket Guide to Hunting Elk” by Slim
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