as i came back out of the kitchen
this time with a fork in my hand
i said,
“ 'salad spoon' is not a common utensil.”
truly a bon mot,
and truly wasted on Rick
thoughtfully sorting freshly dried laundry:
huh?
sensing that my audience was neither
appropriate nor appreciative,
i held up the fork, almost pleading,
and he glanced over his shoulder:
“this time i'll try a salad fork,”
emphasis on the word so he'd grasp,
so simply put,
the dry humor used to transform
my error in utensil selection into witticism;
the result yielding less bon to my mot than before,
but still, i thought,
worth more than the blank look and grunt
and back to folding toasty warm y-fronts.
but even if he lacks the wit
to comprehend, much less enjoy,
the subtle humor of my gustatory faux pas,
injestion of my salad did indeed prove more amenable
to the application of fork rather than spoon.
the pizza i ate with my fingers.