My mom recently inherited some kind of special flatware (sorry, forks all look like forks to me) from my dad’s side of the family, and asked me to check and make sure there are enough for all the Christmas guests. I report back that there are exactly enough for thirteen guests.
My mom: I can’t believe it’s exactly service for 13! Flatware doesn’t even come in thirteens! Who has service for 13?
Me: Jesus at the last supper.
My dad, laughing hysterically: And look how that turned out for everyone.
Later on (after we had used the special flatware for dinner), my mom offered everyone dessert.
My mom: There’s a lemon cake, and Auntie’s almond ring, and a red velvet cake, and Andrea made cookies, and here’s a vegan cake, and a Christmas trifle, and —
My dad: Forty.
My mom: What?
My dad: The Biblical number for uncountable excess is forty.
