Young Host (as he passes a table seating Dad, Mom, three boys, and a little girl): How’s everyone doing over here? I hope Santa was good to you all. How’s your dinner?
Eight-Year-Old Boy: Yeah, excuse me, I ordered a Miller Lite awhile ago and no one brought it to me yet.
Young Host: Oh, sorry about that. I thought you wanted a vodka on the rocks. Hey, eat up your dinner for Mom and Dad.
Dad: They were strays. We picked them up off the street. They’re not our children. They just looked like they needed a meal.



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