“It’s been one of those days,” my friend Bob said. “This morning I sent my yard man to the store for thumbtacks and he came back with Tampax.”
“Joe Miller used to play guitar with me,” I told him. “He always said Belize is not a Third World country. It’s a Third Word country. We use so many languages that we all understand about every third word we say to each other.”
Bob laughed and then he said, “Hey, you’re coming to my anniversary party; Right?”
“Your second year anniversary? I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Will you do me a favor?” Bob asked.
“Sure. Anything you need.”
“Julie has been mad since I accidentally mentioned my 1st wife last week so I’m getting a cake for the party. Will you order it in person to make sure they get it right?”
“O.K. What do you want it to say?”
“Tell them to write HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JULIE. YEAR NUMBER TWO.”
“I can handle that. I have a meeting tomorrow night so I’ll have them send the cake over in case I’m running late.”
Sure enough my meeting ran late and I got to the party half an hour late. The party was in full swing but Bob was sitting in a chair out on the porch.
“How is the party?” I asked.
“Not too good,” he said.
He turned his head to show me a fresh cut lip and the beginnings of a black eye.
“Whew! What happened?”
“Julie punched me because of that cake you ordered.”
“Why would she be angry about the cake?”
He took me inside to look at the cake.
It read, “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY JULIE. YOU’RE NUMBER TWO.”
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