Those of you that have been following the great commenting saga that has unfolded on these pages over the last week, will no doubt have spent the entire weekend on pins and needles, wondering in anxious anticipation what prize I was to be awarded by Camille, the Hot Comma Momma, for the mighty volume of comments left by the readers of this blog, who I’m sure are also deeply concerned by now over the complete lack of any sign of ever ending this sentence.
No doubt, some of you were expecting this reward to be of highly personal nature, one that modesty and discretion would prevent me from disclosing in any great detail.
I know I was.
Instead, I received this:
A Honeydew List.1
My father always said that a pun was the lowest form of wit. He was too kind.
Don’t give up the comments my Comma compadres, perhaps next time I can upgrade to watermelon.
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- Readers of this post with any professional-grade husbanding experience will know that the correct answer in this situation is this: “It doesn’t matter what you got me honey, the real prize is you.”
Those of you new to husbandry should memorize this response. Next to being able to say “No dear, those pants don’t make you look fat” with a straight face, it is the single most valuable skill you can develop. Trust me on this. ↩