A Giggly Gentleman

Rex had Elisabeth rolling on the floor laughing tonight. When we got home from church, I instructed the children to bring everything in from the car. This meant that Rex was carrying his scriptures, his papers, his socks, and his shoes ... which obviously were not on his feet ... which just made me remember his comments in the car:

Rex: Mom?
Mom: Yes?
Rex: My feet are really smelly. [I should here note that at this point in time, his feet were actually in his shoes, minus the socks.] My feet are really smelly, Mom. So when we get home, can I wash them off with the hose in the front yard, you know, when we get home? I don't want them to be smelly anymore. [I should here further note that by this time, he was talking to me with his bare toes firmly attached to the tip of his nose ... or so it appeared in the van's rearview mirror, anyway.]

But I digress. Rex was hauling all of his belongings up to the front door which then apparently snapped shut right behind Elisabeth and in the face of Rex's poor overburdened arms full of stuff.

Rex then felt compelled to yell at his sister, "Elisabeth!!! You're not being a gentleman! You're supposed to hold the door open!!!!"

I haven't heard Elisabeth giggle that much in a very long while. She always has been a connoisseur of a good logical twist of language.