funny shayari good morning pics

saw the humor of my tiny hand, now peeking from the end of my protected fist, and proceeded to extract my bank card from its minuscule grip.

 

His ensuing laughter grew exponentially except fitting what one in this milieu would only define as being “biggie sized,” and the mortification blended with fascination emanating from my son used to be as satisfying as applause to a comic. Comedy does not must be a market produced and consumed completely by the younger; we elderly can also be wickedly whimsical.

 

The employee, still captivated by the tomfoolery, again my card, being ever so cautious as he wedged it between the tiny hand’s flexible fingers. As he delivered our fried fare, he introduced that the laughter was once worth greater than the food, and it might as a result be, “On me”- which I mistook to intend the funny story, now not the food. I departed with a tiny wave, a miniature salute, and a polite “thanks.”

 

As I pulled away, my son seemed on the receipt and announced, “damn, Dang… It was free, critically!” to indicate that our meal had, indeed, been issued complimentary. I used to be surprised, flattered, and

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