Umbrage

Waddling home from the Supreme Shop-n-Bag last weekend, B and H encounter a panhandler in a wheelchair.

P: Hey guys, can you help me out?
B and H: Sorry, not today.
P (observing the waddle): What’re you having, hon, a boy or a girl?
H: We don’t know yet.
P: Oh. But when it comes out it’ll look just like me, right?
H: ha ha ha! We’d both be surprised.

Half a block later:
B: Wait a minute. Was he implying that he’d slept with my wife?
H: Yeah, I think that was the general idea.
B: Maybe I should have taken umbrage at that…
(after a pause) nah, there’s already too much umbrage in the world as it is.