He used to lean over conspiratorially at the dinner table: Psstt…Psst. Want to hear a dirty joke? And our friends (no matter who they were, he named Charlie Brown) would look up eagerly and say: Yeah. And nod their head.

No grown-up had ever told them dirty jokes.

My Dad would motion them closer and he would lean in, and in a whisper: A white pig rolled in the mud.

And then he would laugh his head off at the expressions on their face. And they would try to figure it out.

A white pig rolled in the mud.

–snort–