At dinner one night, my sister's kids asked, "Daddy, why do you call Mommy honey?" "Mommy is my honey," he said (rather sappily, but that's the kind of guy he is). The kids picked up the metaphor and innocently ran with it. "Mommy's your honey! You spread her and eat her!" My sister and her husband were unable to look at each other for the duration of the meal, lest they crack up and then have to explain why.
(From the "Rest" of RHF)
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