Not Knowing When To Quit

Sometimes I do things to purposely piss of my wife. It's fun.

But when she brings it on herself? That's even more fun.

Tonight, the four of us went out to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. We had been sitting in our booth for 3.6 seconds when Ella hissed at me, "Don't say a word."

I had no idea what she was talking about. I looked at her like she was crazy, wondering what I had done wrong. Then I looked around. I noticed an elderly gentleman sitting at the table right next to us. Dude looked exactly like Santa Claus.

I grinned. "Zoey," I whispered.

I looked at Ella. She was sending me one of her patented shut-the-hell-up-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you glares.

Unfazed, I continued to try to get Zoey to notice Santa. "Zoey," I whispered again. "Look at the booth next to us." My daughter, always the brightest bulb in the bunch, looked up.

I received a sharp kick to the shin. There was no turning back at this point. "Zoey! Look over there," I said as I nodded my head in the direction the man was sitting.

Zoey followed my head and saw the man. "SANTA!" she joyfully screamed. The man smiled at her and waved.

"HONEY!" Ella yelled. "What is your deal?"

A few minutes after the man left, I explained to Ella that he wanted the attention. He was making a concentrated effort to look like Santa Claus. Zoey probably made his day.

Didn't matter.

Now if you'll excuse me, the couch is calling.