Control Table Puns

I told the kids “this changes EVERYTHING!”

They had prepared quite the spread with steak, corn, salad, and everyone had their own favorite side. The father had prepared his own signature spice blend and was encouraging everyone to try it. The son tried a little bit on his mac and cheese. Unfortunately he began coughing as it was too spicy, but was able to rinse it down with a bit of water and was fine.

The daughter didn't believe it could be as spicy as her brother claimed, so she put some of the spice blend on her mashed potatoes. She took a big bite and after a bit her face turned red and she began coughing and spluttering and went and got herself a glass of milk in order to help with the spiciness.

The mother laughed, knowing that the blend was spicy, but decided to try some anyway on her fries. She was conservative with her application, and could handle her spice better than her children so she thought she would be fine. And, if it weren't for a small bit of fry trying to go down the wrong pipe, causing her to cough, splutter and wheeze, she would have made it out unscathed.

Finally the father, after having witnessed that none of his family were able to master his own homemade spice blend, added it to every bit of his meal. The steak, the corn, his green beans and even his salad. He the requested some of each of the others' sides, and added the spices to some mac and cheese, mashed potatoes and fries as well. Then, to show he was not joking around, he added some hot sauce to top it all off. He began happily chowing down on every bit of it, completely unconcerned with the level of spice. He did not turn red, he did not cough, he did not splutter, he did not wheeze.

However, in his gusto to complete the meal, he was eating faster than he normal would and a half-chewed piece of steak unfortunately made it down the wrong pipe. His eyes went wide. Still, he did not cough, he did not splutter, he did not wheeze. But, he did begin to turn red. And then, he began to turn blue. Seeing that her husband was choking, the mother got up from the table and started trying to give the heimlich to the father. It didn't seem to be working until suddenly -- p-tooo, out came the piece of steak. Then the father coughed, spluttered and wheezed.

As he tried to regain his breath, his family heard that he was trying to say something between coughing fits. A 'thank you' to his wife, most likely. Or perhaps he was trying to say he should have slowed down and not eaten so fast to show them up. When he finally got

Me: *accidentally bangs lower leg into coffee table*

Me: I should be losing weight fast, cause I definitely have "poor shin control"

Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.

Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.

Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.

The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.

Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.

Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.

One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.

Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.

“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.

The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.

“Yes of course” replied Trevor