This is a true story. If you have children you will probably relate to
this father. This is his story:
As ham sandwiches go, it was perfection: a thick slab of ham on a
fresh bun with crisp lettuce and plenty of expensive, light brown,
gourmet mustard. The corners of my jaw aching in anticipation, I
carried it to the table in our backyard, picked it up with both hands
but was stopped by my wife suddenly at my side.
"Here, hold Johnny (our six-week-old son) while I get my sandwich,"
she said.
I had him balanced between my left elbow and shoulder and was
reaching again for the ham sandwich when I noticed a streak of
mustard on my fingers.
I love mustard.
I had no napkin.
I licked it off.
It was not mustard.
No man ever put a baby down faster... It was the first and only time
I have sprinted with my tongue protruding. With a washcloth in each
hand, I did the sort of routine shoeshine boys do; only I did it on my
tongue.
Later, after she stopped crying from laughing so hard, my wife said,
"Now you know why they call that fancy mustard....'Poupon.'"
hahahahhahaha 
ewwwwwwww hehehehehe