Mike and I stayed up until midnight last night for the first time in years. No particular reason. I guess because Jenny McCarthy was a train wreck and we couldn’t look away. When we went to bed shortly after midnight, I heard Mike mumble.
Me: What?
Mike: I have a funny blog idea for you.
Me: Ok…
Mike: A man gets pulled over by cop. The cop says “you smell like alcohol.” The guy says, that’s my kid that smells like alcohol.” … Did I mention there’s a kid in the car?
Me: No.
Mike: Oh, there’s a baby in the front seat. Anyway, the cop says, “You smell like alcohol.” And the guy says, “That’s my kid that smells like alcohol.” …The kid is like four or five years old. Did I say that?
Me: You said it was a baby, but whew, that’s a lot better. Babies shouldn’t smell like alcohol, but a four year-old, that makes a lot more sense.
Mike: Right. Well, it doesn’t matter. But the kid is like four or five. Anyway, the cop says, “You smell like alcohol.” And the guy says, “That’s my kid that smells like alcohol.” And then the cop tells him he has to put the kid in the trunk before he can keep driving.
Me: —
Mike: —
Me: Is that it?
Mike: It was funnier in my head.
Me: Why would a cop ask someone to put their kid in the trunk of a car?
Mike: Because… because…
Me: Because he smells like alcohol?
Mike: Yes!
Me: He’s a kid, not an open container.
Mike: Yes! That’s what makes it funny.
Me: —
Mike: It was funnier in my head.
