The Kind Of Joke That Makes You Question Your Existence
Last night as I was eating my dinner, Quinn kept staring me down. I had a pastry-wrapped chicken dish, and tradition dictates that he and Casey get to eat the pastry. (I've noticed that I've lost weight the dogs have put some on. Not a coincidence, I think.)
He waited somewhat patiently, quivering in anticipation. As soon as I was done I divided the pastry between the two of them. Once it was fully distributed I thought they would go away, but Quinn still sat there insisting that I give him some more.
"Quinn, I can't give you anything else. There's nothing left. We ate it all."
Hubby was watching everything and laughing at me, because there is nothing more persuasive than our dogs when they're begging for food. It's really really bad if you have no food to give them.
"It's the Round Table Dilemma," he told me jokingly.
"What do you mean?" At this point I was really confused.
"It's all gone, Quinn."
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we need to isolate the pun genome and eliminate it from future generations.