Crocs

"So Dad, what do you think about Crocs?" my sister asked my father, after a conversation about his loafers.
"I don't like them."

"Do you think he knew I was talking about shoes?" my sister asked my mother as my father walked away.
"No, he thought you were talking about animals . . . your father, he doesn't like crocodiles."

"So Dad, you're morally opposed to crocodiles? What have crocodiles done to you? Have you even been in contact with a crocodile?"
"Crocodiles? Oh, I thought you were talking about crocks . . . you know, the ceramic kind? Your mother keeps buying them and they keep breaking all over the place . . . big mess."

So my father is getting two pairs of Crocs for father's day . . . a pair with holes and a pair without holes . . . so he can wear them to the Wal-mart instead of his loafers w/o socks. It will be better that way. Mere will not get him any crocks or crocodiles, honoring his dislikes.