where's the beef?

Sage walked up to me while I was reading one of the books I got this week, "Unsolved Murders" (yes, I'm sucker for true crime as well).

"What are you reading, Dad?" she asked, climbing over me to peer at the book.

"'Unsolved Murders'," I replied, struggling to read while blocked by a three year-old's arms and legs and hair.

Nikki walked in to tell us that dinner was ready.

"Mommy, Mommy!" Sage told her. "Look, Daddy's reading 'Unsolved Burgers'!"

Nikki and I couldn't help ourselves and burst into laughter, telling Sage that I was, in fact, not reading up on the demise of fast food products under dubious circumstances.

But of course, somewhere in my head, a scene unfolded:

(The tenor of the dinner party was abruptly altered when Jeeves, the butler, walked in, his eyes widened by horror.

"Forgive me, sirs," he gasped. "There's been a burger! Burger!")