All His Idea

My son recently had surgery. He is recovering well.  That is not the story.  Bud and I came to spend a few days to stay with him at the hospital and help my daughter-in-law with their two Akitas.  Akitas are huge furry dogs who shed copiously.  Every day, there is enough hair on the floor to cover a whole new dog.  The kids just moved and still have boxes to unpack.  They have an aging vacuum cleaner that struggles with dog hair and has to be unstopped every few minutes to empty. Sadly, the vacuum cleaner implements are still packed in a moving box. I am the primary housekeeper since John is in the hospital and my daughter-in-law spends time with him and tries to keep their lives going.  That being said, I need a fully functional vacuum cleaner with implements. “I am going to buy a vacuum cleaner as soon as I can get to a store.  I cant’t keep up with the dog hair with this old vacuum cleaner and a dust cloth.”

Bud thought I could.  “It vacuums just fine.  You just need to unstop it when it plugs up.”

”It does not work fine.  Take me to the store.”

“I don’t have time right now.  I have to………” He mumbled as he walked off.  He clearly intended to avoid the store.

The next day, I went to pick my daughter-in-law up after her hospital visit.  She took me to the store and I got a nice vacuum cleaner.  All the comings and goings have been hard on the dog’s nerves.  The next morning,  DIL left me at the hospital and picked Bud up, after he’d spent the night.  When they got in the house, a horrible mess greeted them at the door.  Trash was scattered all over the kitchen.  One of the dogs had dragged a box of grits off the counter and stomped them all into the rug.  There was liquid dog poop smeared in the bathroom rug.  The dogs made enough mess between them to keep that new vacuum cleaner busy for a couple of hours.

After the storm, Bud remarked to DIL.  “I told Linda y’all probably need a new vacuum cleaner.”

How did it get to be his idea?

Big Mouth Kids

Some interesting quotes from children:  Not all from mine, thank goodness

From a three-year old boy learning to potty from his dad. “Cool penis dad!”

The same boy exiting the bathroom:  “There’s a lot of turds in there!”

My three-year-old son advising his father:  Don’t let Baby Sister in the bathroom with you.  She’ll pull your penis.  Ain’t she rude!”

The same boy to an older deaf neighbor:  “YOU CAN’T HEAR THUNDER!”  Of course he’d heard this from his father.

From my daughter standing behind a portly lady in line at the grocery story.  I gave her a look and shushed her when she tried to comment.  The lady turned to walk away and my little one chimed out,  “I sure was nice not to call her a big, old, fat lady, wasn’t I, Mommy?

My niece:  “Boogers taste like pickles.”  I told my daughter and my little grandson spoke to himself, “I like that girl.”

I told my first grade teacher, “My mama said she wouldn’t take a sick dog to Dr. Jones.  She bristled, “I’ll have you know my father is a very good doctor!”  I couldn’t wait to get home to tell Mother.

 

 

Afternoon Funny

 

 

lawXmas-cart-2 lawyer-cat A divorce court judge said to the husband,”Mr Geraghty,I have reviewed this case very carefully and I’ve decided to give your wife $800 a week.”
“That’s very fair,your honour,” he replied. “And every now and then I’ll try to send her a few bucks myself.”

A physician, an engineer, and an attorney were discussing who among them belonged to the oldest of the three professions represented.

The physician said, “Remember, on the sixth day God took a rib from Adam and fashioned Eve, making him the first surgeon. Therefore, medicine is the oldest profession.”

The engineer replied, “But, before that, God created the heavens and earth from chaos and confusion, and thus he was the first engineer. Therefore, engineering is an older profession than medicine.”

Then, the lawyer spoke up. “Yes,” he said, “But who do you think created all of the chaos and confusion?”

“You seem to be in some distress,” said the kindly judge to the witness. “Is anything the matter?”
“Well, your Honour,” said the witness, “I swore to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but every time I try, some lawyer objects.”

To help someone before they commit a crime means you are their
accomplice.
To help someone after they commit a crime means you are their attorney.

 

A lawyer died and was standing in front of St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter said, “you can’t come in here… you have to go to the other place”. But the lawyer was really good and pleaded his case to the point where St. Peter said, “OK… here’s what I’ll do. You will spend the same amount of time in hell as you did on earth, and then you can spend the rest of eternity up here.” The lawyer figured this wasn’t too bad of a deal, so he said “OK”. St. Peter said, “Great… I’ll see you in 350 years.”. The lawyer said, “But, how is that possible… I’m only 65 years old!”. St Peter said, “We go by billing hours”.

 

A plumber went to the attorneys house to unstop the sink. When he finished he said to the attorney “that will be $400.00.” The attorney became irate “What do you mean $400.00, you were only here 20 minutes, that’s ridiculous!!” The plumber replied, “I thought the same thing when I was an attorney”.

Escape Artist

Kate was an absolutely adorable little bundle of energy, her smile, a burst of sunshine.  I couldn’t get enough of her, except at bedtime.  Bedtimes were a marathon of up and down, back and forth.  She climbed like a monkey. By sixteen months, she’d mastered climbing over the rails of her crib.  With no fear of falling, she’d plunge to the floor.  In the interest of saving her brain, we had no choice but to put her in a twin bed. The total freedom of that bed made getting her to bed even more of a challenge, usually involving cuddling, books, quiet play, and numerous trips to put her back to bed.  Most of the time, I had to lie down with her till she drifted off.  As often as not, I’d be asleep first so she’d try to crawl over me to get out.

We had dinner guests one evening.  I made a fruitless effort to get her to be early. It seemed to give her extra energy for her usual festivities. This particular evening, she was proud she’d learned to take her clothes off, so she stripped to the skin before emerging naked as the day she was born.  I left the table four or fives times to times to dress her and put her back to bed.  The admiration of the guests only strengthened her determination to show off.    Bud always thought he knew a better way.  The last time she showed up, ringlets bouncing and little pink butt shining, he took a stern tone.  “Baby girl, if you pull your clothes off and come in here again, I’m gonna knock a knot on your head.”  This would have been a first if he had laid a hand on her. He put her back in bed and said in a gruff tone, “Now, I guess she’ll stay there!”

Our conversationed resumed.  I wondered resentfully why he hadn’t done that before.  After a few minutes, we heard pat, pat, pat coming down the hall.  A tiny girl, grinning like a bear eating briars tip-toed into the ding room.  Naked as a jay bird, she wore her brother’s football helmet on her head.  I guess he had made an impression.

 

Turkey in the Bra

Most nurses have to work half the holidays.  It’s a fact of life.  That means, you’re also working with a lot less help on those days, not always the best situation.  Patients need the same care as any other day. Since Bud and I were both nurses, we just planned our celebrations around the holiday, not a bad idea, anyway, since our many siblings had other family to visit.   One Thanksgiving, I was the only nurse working in the hemodialysis unit, assisted by a technician.  I made sure my patients knew when they were scheduled, so their family could have an uninterrupted visit, hoping not to cut a family visit short.  It’s a bad idea for a patient to eat a heavy meal before a dialysis treatment, so I always encouraged them to have no more than a light snack, to avoid a vomiting episode.  Patients who eat a large meal are very likely to throw up during their treatment.

The patient I had scheduled for one o’clock just couldn’t resist the delectable Thanksgiving Dinner his family had brought from home.  He had turkey, dressing, green beans, and pecan pie.  After a preliminary conversation and pretreatment assessment, I asked if he’d had a snack before coming.  “Oh yeah, I had a little bite of turkey.”

I got his treatment started and all was well for a few minutes, then the truth came out about his hearty lunch, literally.  He started heaving.  The whole menu was presented, dessert first, since it was on top.  Pecan pie is not appealing the second time around.  Turkey and dressing came up next, followed up by green beans.  He filled his own lap and the blanket covering him, with plenty to spare.  As I cleaned him up and got him into a fresh gown, he served up seconds.  This time it was turkey,  green beans with a few bits of egg.  Fortunately for him, I caught most of it in a towel.  The rest splattered me. He felt much better with his stomach empty and went right to sleep.

I always had extra scrubs in my locker for just such an occasion. While the technician watched the patient, I ducked into the staff bathroom.  I peeled the disgusting clothes off, trying to avoid getting the mess on myself.  I scrubbed myself, but didn’t have a fresh bra.  I swabbed the drenched one the best I could with a washcloth, and put on fresh scrubs over my bra.   I knew I smelled sour, but there was nothing else to be done.

We finished his treatment, uneventfully.  Hours later I got home.  The kids told me I stunk.  The dog agreed.  He couldn’t leave me alone, burning to investigate the intriguing aroma. I couldn’t wait to shower. When I peeled off my bra, turkey and green beans tumbled out.  They’d left an imprint.  Bud was repulsed.  The dog was entranced, gobbling them right up.

Doctor Jokes

“Doctor, doctor!  Come quick. Little Johnny just swallowed a razor-blade.”
“Don’t panic, I’m coming immediately. Have you done anything yet?”
“Yea, I shaved with the electric razor.”

“Doctor, doctor, You’ve got to help me!  I just can’t stop my hands from shaking!”
“Uh oh!  Do you drink a lot?”
“I try, but I spill most of it!”

“Doctor, doctor, will I be able to play the violin after the operation?”
“Yes, of course…”
“Great! I never could before!”

A man speaks frantically into the phone, “My wife is pregnant, and her contractions are five minutes apart!”
“Calm down.  Is this her first child?” the doctor queries.
“No, you idiot!” the man shouts. “This is her husband!”

Texas Chili Cookoff

Texas Chili Contest

For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a chili cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio city park. The notes are from an inexperienced chili taster named Frank, who has visited from Springfield IL.

Frank: “Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cooking contest. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judges table asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy and, besides, they told me that I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted.”

Here are the scorecards from the advent: (Frank is Judge 3)

Chili #1 Eddie’s Maniac Monster Chili

>Judge #1 — A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

>Judge #2 — Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

>Judge #3 — (Frank) What the hell is this stuff?! You could remove dried paint on my driveway. Took me two beers to put out the flames. I hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy!

Chili #2 Austin’s Afterburner Chili

>Judge #1 — Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

>Judge #2 — Exiting BBQ flavor; needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

>Judge #3 — Keep this out of reach of children. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

Chili #3 Ronny’s Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

>Judge #1 — Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.

>Judge #2 — A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.

>Judge #3 — Call the EPA. I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my back bone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting pie-eyed from all the beer…

Chili #4 Dave’s Black Magic

>Judge #1 — Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

>Judge #2 — Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish, or other mild foods; not much of a chili.

>Judge #3 — I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb woman is starting to look HOT…just like this nuclear waste I’m eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?

Chili #5 Lisa’s Legal Lip Remover

>Judge #1 — Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

>Judge #2 — Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

>Judge #3 – My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off may forehead, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I’m burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.

Chili #6 Pam’s Very Vegetarian Variety

>Judge #1 — Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.

> Judge #2 — The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

> Judge #3 — My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous sulphuric flames. I pooped on myself when I farted and I’m worried it will eat through the chair! No one seems inclined to stand behind me anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.

Chili #7 Carla’s Screaming Sensation Chili

>Judge #1 — A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

>Judge #2 — Ho-hum; tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last minute. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress, as he is cursing uncontrollably.

>Judge #3 — You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I’ve lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are filled with lave to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing; it’s too painful. Screw it; I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili #8 Karen’s Toenail Curling Chili

>Judge #1 — The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold, but spicy enough to declare its existence.

>Judge #2 — This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild, nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over, and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor fella, wonder how he’d have reacted to REALLY hot chili.

Tough Critics

We didn’t get out much when our kids were little.  We learned early on, if  people in our pay grade  had children, they didn’t  have much else.  What seemed like a fun and inexpensive hobby, turned out to be an expensive proposition.  Having friends over for dinner was about as far as our budget stretched.

One night we had dinner guests and sat the two three-year-old boys down with a plate of what I thought looked like delicious manicotti, a dish new to both of them.  Soon, I realized it was a big mistake.  My John was a champion talker and felt everyone needed his opinion.  Tasting  the sauce sauce and announced.  “ I don’t like it.  Can I have a hot dog.”

“At least try it. I answered.   “If you don’t like it, you can have a hot dog.”

He poked it with a fork and spiced meat pressed  out.  “I can’t eat this, Mommy.!” He yowled. “ “It’s got doo doo in it!”

After that, his little friend Neil refused to try it..  “This is delicious.” He stated flatly, laying his fork down.

His mom cleared things up for me.  “He says food is delicious when it’s disgusting.”  I knew when I was whipped and went for the hot dogs.