Dinner with the Southern in-laws

Jon: “What are we having to eat at your mother’s house?”

Me: “Ribs, I think. No, wait. Country ribs.”

Jon: “There’s a difference?”

Me: “Is there a difference? Did you really just ask me that question? Oh that’s right, you refer to biscuits as muffins, so we already know that your brain is a little wobbly.”

Jon: “No, I’m serious. What makes them country?”

Me: “They like to drive around with their infant sons on their laps.”

Jon: “Is there something in the recipe?”

Me: “And walk into gas station bathrooms with bare feet.”

Jon: “A particular ingredient in the sauce?”

Me: “I once knew this country rib, he couldn’t find a worm to fish with, so he threw a pipe bomb into the pond. That was an interesting funeral.”

Jon: “So, they’re country ribs because they were marinated in the bathtub.”

Me: “That’s what I’m thinking.”