Coming up short

Last weekend, my younger brother Paul and his son Luke visited for a few days, which was quite fun.

At one point in the visit, we were standing in the garage chatting when my 17-year-old son Matt looked at his Uncle Paul and snickered.

“I’m as tall as you,” Matt pointed out.

The two of them wandered over to Paul’s truck to fetch the banjo (long story for another time) and my mother watched them walk away.

“I think Matt is actually taller,” she said.

When Paul came back, I asked him how tall he is. He gave me one of the best answers to that question I have ever heard.

“I start out in the morning at 5 foot 11,” he said. “By the end of the day, I’m 5 foot 10 because the world and my job have beaten me down.”

That is just funny.