Kenny

I like to think I have inherited my dad's wit. He always loved a good joke, many of which he played on others. For example, he was supposed to bring a urine sample to our local doctor's office for his check up. It just so happened that his appointment was on St. Patrick's Day. So my dad takes water, adds green food coloring to it, and hands his "sample" to the nurse.

"Kenny Bauer, what is THAT?" the nurse exclaimed.

My dad replies, "It's a funny thing, but this happens to me every St. Patrick's Day."

A story he loved to tell took place in the 1960s, when he played a joke on Joe, the paper boy. Joe came collecting, as he always did on Saturday morning. Here is the dialogue that followed:

Joe: That will be a quarter please.

Dad: Gee, I don't have a quarter, all I have is a 50 cent piece.

Joe: That's okay, I can give you back a quarter.

Dad: Fine! (Joe gives him his change, and they make small talk for a few minutes, all the while Dad is jangling coins in his pocket)

Dad: (pulls his hand out his pocket) Oh, Joe, look, I do have a quarter after all. Here you go, now give me back my 50 cent piece.

Joe slowly unzips his money bag to retrieve the 50 cent piece, and with a confused look on his face, says: I'm not sure what just happened here, but something about it doesn't feel right.