Boomerang. That is the new nickname my husband has named my father. One that is well-earned.
Every night after dinner Pop announces that he is going out to sit on the porch. (his favorite past time.) He gets as far as the kitchen door before he turns quickly around and returns to his place at the table. "Too chilly!" he will announce.
Pop will sit for a few minutes and then say, "I'm going out on the porch." Mom, Husband, and I will sit smiling at each other. Pop puts one foot out the kitchen door and ... "Brrr, it's cold out there." before returning to his chair.
We wait patiently as Pop tries one more time. "I think it's going to snow!" He shakes his head chuckling at the joke he made, and he joins us once again at the table.
Corny joke: What do you call a boomerang that doesn't return? . . . . . . . . . . . .
A stick
(joke credit: my husband)
