On Mother's Day Sunday, my sister, brother and I drove up to Chattanooga to take our mother to lunch. Dad actually paid the bill. We tried to pay, I swear we did, but Dad about had a heart attack demanding that he get to pay when my sister picked up the check.
I love to make Mom laugh. She's a great audience. She doesn't laugh at everything, just anything that's really funny. I didn't plan to make her laugh on Sunday. I tend to get nervous and fill my side of the conversation with endless rimshots. I decided today to just have normal conversation and enjoy the day with family.
But then, Mom inadvertently set me up for a great comeback. She was telling us about a bar mitzvah she and Dad had recently attended for the son of one of the more well-heeled members of their shul. Mom loves to describe the food at any social gathering she attends. Well, this one had an incredible spread thanks to the boy's parents' deep pockets. Mom's journey through all the tables of catered food went on and on in great detail.
The most magnificent item at the party was a large chocolate cake in the shape of a torah.
"What did the top of the torah cake say?" Mom asked. "I can't remember."
"You wouldn't believe what we paid for this cake?" I suggested.
"What?" Mom asked.
"On top of the torah cake," I explained. "Maybe it said: You wouldn't believe what we paid for this cake."
Mom put down her fork and laughed. That made my day.