Afternoon Funny

'I dare you to ask Jeeves about the birds and the bees!'

Bnb 4 Bnb 5

Beatrice wished her husband was around to have 'the talk' with their maturing son, The she remembered his absence was her fault,

Beatrice wished her husband was around to have ‘the talk’ with their maturing son, The she remembered his absence was her fault,

Hoping for a boy or girl?

Hoping for a boy or girl?

birds-bees 1

Until I was eleven the only knowledge I had of how boy’s anatomy was an occasional peek at a little boy during a diaper change and a quick image of a whirling behind if I happened to walk catch a brother, or a cousin sneaking a pee outdoors.  From that, I mainly felt envy that I couldn’t pee on stuff.

Imagine my surprise when my friend Margaret informed me exactly what the facts of life entailed. She even called it “The Facts of Life.”  Her story:  Mr. Brown who topped three hundred pounds easily, took off all his clothes, every night, and stuck his peanut in Mrs. Brown, who coincidentally weighed at least two hundred pounds.  He peed inside her and laid on top of her all night.  I knew this wasn’t possible.  Anybody that walrus laid on all night would be smushed.  Mrs. Brown was not smushed.  She had enormous breasts, and a pendulous belly.  I told Margaret she was lying and went straight to my mother.

I told Mother, Margaret had told me a big lie, the “Facts of Life.”  I guess Mother thought I had gotten a prettier version.  She was annoyed, saying she intended to tell me herself.  She went ahead and gave me her version, involving a boy and girl falling in love and getting married.  True, they did indulge in some “intimacies”, her word.  These “intimacies” would result in a baby.  I was never to even consider such a thing until I was married.

Armed with her confirmation of the truth Margaret had told me, the picture of Mr. and Mrs. Brown burned in my mind, I assured her it would NEVER happen!  They should teach this version in schools.

Writing on the Toilet Walls (from Kathleen’s Memoirs of the Depression)

When I started first grade at Cuthand School, I took my reader home every night, and with Annie’s help, read several lessons ahead. I’d always longed to read, but by now had another incentive, although a secret one. The inside toilet walls at the school were covered with hundreds of words and sentences, all tantalizing out of my illiterate reach. Continue reading

“Where’s Betty Boo?”

”Betty Boo(Blue)” was the first toy I remember. Blonde-haired Betty and her bright blue dress were molded in the hard celluloid of cheap toys of the 1930’s.  I loved Betty and played with her constantly.  Though I was careful, in the hands of a tiny child, it was her Continue reading