Evening Chuckle

Glenn and his wife were working in their garden one day when Glenn looks over at his wife and says,
“Your butt is getting really big. I bet your butt is bigger than the barbecue.”

With that he proceeded to get a measuring tape and measured the grill and then went over to where his wife was working and measured his wife’s bottom.
“Yes, I was right, your butt is two inches wider than the barbecue!”
The wife chose to ignore the husband.

Later that night in bed Glenn was feeling a little frisky.
He makes some advances towards his wife who completely brushes him off.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
She answers, “Do you really think I’m going to fire up this big-ass grill for one little weenie.

Ask Auntie Linda, October 9, 2015

Dear Auntie Linda,  My son recently married a woman from a third world country.  He went through a website, went to meet her, and married her as soon as he could.  This has been quite a shock to his father and me since we knew nothing about it until he introduced her to us as his wife.  It has been a very hard adjustment for her, since she barely speaks English. We have tried to make her welcome but she clearly is uncomfortable since she hardly knows us, but I am sure we will work it all out in time.  She and my son attend services with ties to her country of origin. They are expecting their first child.  She adheres to her cultural practices and wants to deliver at home, with a friend/midwife.  My son, my husband, and I are all very concerned about the safety of a home-delivery with proper medical backup, but in this, she is adamant.  What do we do?  Hopeful Grandma

Dear Hopeful, This is concerning.  Maybe you should check out midwife/home birthing/birthing center options in your community.  There should be a way she could deliver with her midwife/friend involved as well.  I understand your concerns, but this is something she and your son will have to work out together.  Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  I feel so guilty.  I gave birth six months ago but don’t love my new baby.  He is my second and a much-wanted, beautiful baby.  I loved my daughter from the day she was born.  I do all the right things taking care of him, but only pick up feed, change, and care for him.  I don’t feel any bond with him, just care for him out of duty.  Fortunately, he is a good baby and hardly ever cries.  If someone came by and offered to take care of him, I’d be glad to accept, except for my shame.  My husband has noticed and bends over backwards to take up the slack, with him and our daughter.  On one hand, I am grateful, but on the other, I am jealous that he only has time for the baby, now.  Every time I look at him, I feel like my life is over.  I wish I could sleep till I am fifty and the kids are grown.  What is wrong with me?  Horrible Mother

Dear Mother,  It sounds likely you are suffering from post-natal depression.  Call your doctor for an appointment, TODAY!  Discuss this with your husband.  There is help for this.  No two pregnancies are the same.  Just because you didn’t have it last time doesn’t mean you aren’t affected now.  Get help!  Auntie Linda

Afternoon Funny

Have you heard about the dyslexic devil worshipper?
He sold his soul to Santa!

If life gives you melons then you’re probably dyslexic!

Have you heard about the guy who discovered that he’s both dyslexic and gay?
He’s still in daniel!

Did you heard about the dyslexic alcoholic?
He walked into a bra?

Have you heard about a guy who used to have dyslexia?
He now has dailysex instead!

Did you hear about the dyslexic Rabbi?
He walks around saying “Yo.”

A dyslexic boy who asks his mother for McDonald’s?
She said: “You can have one if you can spell it.”
The boy replied: “Fine, I’ll have a KFC!”

Two dyslexic guys were riding in a car.
One turned to the other and said, “Can you smell petrol?”
The other replied, “Don’t be a moron, I can’t even smell my own name!”

A dyslexic robber ran into a bank.
He screamed: “Air in the hands mother stickers this is a f*ck up!”
What happens if life gives you melons?
You’re dyslexic.

What does DNA stand for?
National Dyslexics Association

Have you heard of the cow who attained spirtual enlightenment?
She was dyslexic and kept on repeating OOOOMMM!

If you’re cross-eyed and have dyslexia, can you read all right?

Did you hear about the dyslexic agnostic, he suffers from insomnia because he stays up all night wondering if there is a dog.

Laundry in the 1950’s Part 2

Laundry in the 1950’s Part 1

Once all that mountain of wash was done, the heavy, wet wash had to be lugged out to the clothes line, no small feat.  Mother had three lines stretched between T-shaped supports.  Shaking each piece to get in basic in shape after its trip through the wringer, the towels and diapers gave a nice, sharp pop!  She propped the heavy lines up with clothes line poles so the wash could dance in the breeze.  Woe be it to the foolish kid who’d run off with her clothes lines poles.  I’ve been known to do it!

She usually sent us out several times to check to see if the laundry was dry.  There is no smell fresher than line-dried laundry.  I just loved sliding into bed between sheets fresh off the line.  The mountain of laundry was likely to be piled on a bed till it could be folded.

Starched clothes came off the line still slightly damp, if she caught them at just the right time.  Rolled into tight balls and stuffed into a pillow case, they’d be stuffed into the freezer till ironed.  If they got completely dry, she’d have to sprinkle them before stuffing them in the pillowcase, by dipping her hand in water and flipping droplets on the clothes.  One Christmas, I gave her a sprinkler cap that fit in a coke bottle.  She said it was the most useful gift she ever got, making her sprinkling so much easier.

When Mother had to wash in rainy or wet weather, laundry was hung lines on the back porch, and on chair backs.  Once in a while, after a string of rainy day, she’d get desperate and have to take laundry to the Washateria to dry, but that was a huge hassle and unnecessary expense, not to mention, we only had one car.  That meant she had to take Daddy to work and pick him up, not a small undertaking with small children in tow.

As soon as we were old enough, we were pressed into service on clothes line duty and folding and putting away the laundry that didn’t have to be ironed.  Naturally, I thought that was awful, having to do “Mother’s work.”  I did have enough sense to keep my opinions to myself after a couple of complaints, though.

Mother kept an eye out for sudden rain, flying to the line to get her laundry.  If it wasn’t quite dry, it went on the back porch to finish.  Laundry had to be in as early as possible, for fear of sudden showers.  God forbid, from time to time, birds left a surprise on the drying clothes.

At the end of this relaxing day, Mother usually set us down to a slow-simmered supper(not dinner) of beans or soup and cornbread since she’d been working on laundry all day.

It was the life!

Joke of the Day

A Rabbi and a Priest get into a car accident and it’s a bad one. Both cars are totally demolished, but, amazingly, neither of the clerics is hurt. After they crawl out of their cars, the rabbi sees the priest’s collar and says, “So you’re a priest. I’m a rabbi. Just look at our cars. There’s nothing left, but we are unhurt. This must be a sign from God. God must have meant that we should meet and be friends and live together in peace the rest of our days.”

The Priest replies, “I agree with you completely. This must be a sign from God.”

The Rabbi continues, “And look at this. Here’s another miracle. My car is completely demolished but this bottle of Mogen David wine didn’t break. Surely God wants us to drink this wine and celebrate our good fortune.”

Then he hands the bottle to the priest. The priest agrees, takes a few big swigs, and hands the bottle back to the rabbi. The rabbi takes the bottle, immediately puts the cap on, and hands it back to the priest.

The Priest asks, “Aren’t you having any?”

The Rabbi replies, “No…I think I’ll wait for the police.”

A blonde woman is walking down the street, with her blouse open. A cop is approaching from about a block away, thinking, “Boy, my eyes must be going, it looks like that woman’s right breast is hanging out.”

As he gets closer it becomes apparent that her breast is hanging out. When he gets face to face with her he says, “Ma’am, are you aware I could cite you for indecent exposure?”

She says, “Why, officer?”

“Well, your breast is hanging out.”

She looks down and says “OMIGOD, I left the baby on the bus!”

An eleven-year-old Jewish boy was failing math. His parents tried everything from tutors to hypnosis; but to no avail. Finally, at the insistence of a family friend, they decided to enroll their son in a private Catholic school.

After the first day, the boy’s parents were surprised when he walked in after school with a stern, focused and very determined expression on his face. He went straight past them, right to his room and quietly closed the door.

For nearly two hours he toiled away in his room – with math books strewn about his desk and the surrounding floor. He emerged long enough to eat, and after quickly cleaning his plate, went straight back to his room, closed the door and worked feverishly at his studies until bedtime.

This pattern of behaviour continued until it was time for the first quarter’s report card. The boy walked in with it unopened – laid it on the dinner table and went straight to his room. Cautiously, his mother opened it and, to her amazement, she saw a large black ‘A’ under the subject of Math.

Overjoyed, she and her husband rushed into their son’s room, thrilled at his remarkable progress. “Was it the nuns that did it?” the father asked.

The boy shook his head and said “No.”

“Was it the one-to-one tutoring? The peer-mentoring?”

“No.”

“The textbooks? The teachers? The curriculum?”

“No”, said the son. “On that first day, when I walked in the front door and saw that guy nailed to the plus sign, I KNEW they meant business!”