Unfiltered Story #183624

(My nine-year-old and I have just arrived at a fancy restaurant to have Christmas dinner with my seventy-eight-year-old mum and her eighty-year-old boyfriend. Hubby/dad is running late because he had to shave and iron his t-shirt. He usually wears a yellow/black ski coat, so we often call him “the Bee.”)

Boyfriend: *talking to my son* “So, where’s your dad?”

Son: “He’s polishing his stinger!”

(Cue inner laughing and acute embarrassment on my part…)