Fowl play

I was leaving the grocery store recently when my wife called. I answered and she said, “YOU NEED TO COME HOME. NOW.”

Based on this tone, this was not something I had done. I knew this, because that tone was not the one someone would use had I, say, left the toilet seat up. That’s the tone for someone who has just been caught replacing the dining room furniture with a video game arcade. And I knew I had not committed any egregious acts, so it had to be something I had not done, but needed to take care of.

Permit me to be terrified

Disclaimer: This column is not about guns or gun laws. Yes, it starts with a mention of the gun debate as a jumping off point, but please don’t stop reading just because you see the word gun. I don’t do politics in this column, and never have. The most controversial subject I have tackled was the grand debate raging through our home on the proper way to eat corn on the cob. (The correct answer is typewriter style, not the barbaric way of corn cob rotation that my wife continues to try and indoctrinate our poor children with.) Now, to the column: