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Posts Tagged ‘Mothers Humor’

Sometimes we just need to remember….

1.  Never give yourself a haircut after three margaritas.

2.  You need only two tools, WD-40 and duct tape.  If it doesn’t move and it should, use WD-40.  If it moves and shouldn’t, use the tape.

3.  The five most essential words for a healthy, vital relationship: “I apologize” and “You are right. ”

4.  Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.

5.  When you make a mistake, make amends immediately.  Crow is easier to eat while it’s still warm.

6.  The best advice that your mother ever gave you was, “Go!  You might meet somebody!”

7.  If someone says that you’re too good for him or her, believe it.

8.  Learn to pick your battles.  Ask yourself, “Will this matter one year from now?  How about one month?”

9.  If you woke up breathing, congratulations!  You have another chance!

10.  Be really nice to your friends and family.  Some day, you may need them to empty your bedpan.

[author unknown]

Say Life

Say Life

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My mother was a fanatic about public restrooms.

When I was a little girl, she’d take me into the stall, show me how to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then she’d carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she’d instruct, “Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat.”

Then she’d demonstrate “The Stance,” which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh makes contact with the toilet seat.

That was a long time ago.

Now, in my “mature” years, “The Stance” is excruciatingly difficult to maintain.

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it’s your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won’t latch. It doesn’t matter.

The dispenser for the modern “seat covers” (invented by someone’s Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there were one, but there isn’t – so you carefully but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume “The Stance.”

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake.  You’d love to sit down, but you certainly hadn’t taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold “The Stance.”

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.

In your mind, you can hear your mother’s voice saying, “Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!”  Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday – the one that’s still in your purse.  That would have to do.

You crumple it in the puffiest way possible.  It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn’t work.  The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.

Occupied!” you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT!  It is wet of course.

You bolt up, knowing all too well that it’s too late.  Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper – not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you’re certain, her bare bottom never, ever touched a public toilet seat because, “Frankly, dear, you just don’t KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.”

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose that somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At that point, you give up.

You’re soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.  You’re exhausted.

You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.  You can’t figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them.

A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??)  You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman’s hand and tell her warmly, “Here, you just might need this.”

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used and left the men’s restroom.

Annoyed, he asks, “What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?”

[This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restroom (“Rest”??? You’ve got to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked question about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It’s so the other gal can hold the door, hang on to your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door.]

(author unknown)

Drive Carefully

Drive Carefully

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This is for all my friends who are parents.  While it is written from the mom’s perspective, even dads can appreciate this humorous perspective.  [author unknown]

When I was younger, I remember receiving the inevitable homework assignment to write an essay on “something I am thankful for.”

Then I’d spend a lot of time sitting in my room trying to figure out just what in the world that could possibly be, and I’d end up writing down everything I could think of from God to environmental consciousness.

But after having children, my priorities have clearly changed:

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful to have been born the USA, the most powerful free democracy in the world.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for Velcro tennis shoes. As well as saving valuable time, now I can hear the sound of my son taking off his shoes — which gives me three extra seconds to activate the safety locks on the back seat windows right before he hurls them out of the car and onto the freeway.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for the recycling program that will preserve our natural resources and prevent the overloading of landfills.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for swim diapers because every time my son wanders into water in plain disposables, he ends up wearing a blimp the size of, say, New Jersey, on his bottom.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for fresh, organic vegetables.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for microwaveable macaroni and cheese — without which my children would be surviving on about three bites of cereal and their own spit.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for the opportunity to obtain a college education and have a higher quality of life than my ancestors.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful to finish a complete thought without being interrupted.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for holistic medicine and natural herbs.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for pediatric cough syrup guaranteed to “cause drowsiness” in young children.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for all of the teachers who had taught, encouraged, and nurtured me throughout my formative years.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for all of the people at Weight Watchers who let me strip down to pantyhose and a strategically placed scarf before getting on the scale each week.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for the opportunity to vacation in exotic foreign countries so I could experience a different way of life in a new culture.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful to have time to make it all the way down the driveway to get the mail.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for the Moosewood Vegetarian cookbook.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for the Butterball Turkey hotline.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for a warm, cozy home to share with my loved ones.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for the lock on the bathroom door.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for such material objects as custom furniture, a nice car, and trendy clothes.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful when the baby spits up and misses my good shoes.

BEFORE CHILDREN: I was thankful for my wonderful family.
AFTER CHILDREN: I am thankful for my wonderful family.

[author unknown]

Sharp Edges Sign

Sharp Edges Sign

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Four brothers left home for college, and they became successful doctors and lawyers and prospered.

Some years later, they chatted after having dinner together. They discussed the gifts that they were able to give to their elderly mother who lived far away in another city.

The first said, “I had a big house built for Mama.”

The second said, “I had a hundred thousand dollar theater built in the house.”

The third said, “I had my Mercedes dealer deliver her an SL600.”

The fourth said, “Listen to this. You know how Mama loved reading the Bible and you know she can’t read it anymore because she can’t see very well. I met this priest who told me about a parrot that can recite the entire Bible. It took twenty priests 12 years to teach him. I had to pledge to contribute $100,000 a year for twenty years to the church, but it was worth it. Mama just has to name the chapter and verse and the parrot will recite it.”

The other brothers were impressed. After the holidays Mom sent out her Thank You notes.

She wrote: “Milton, the house you built is so huge. I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house. Thanks anyway.”

“Marvin, I am too old to travel. I stay home; I have my groceries delivered, so I never use the Mercedes. The thought was good. Thanks.”

“Michael, you give me an expensive theater with Dolby sound, it could hold 50 people, but all my friends are dead, I’ve lost my hearing and I’m nearly blind. I’ll never use it. Thank you for the gesture just the same.”

“Dearest Melvin, you were the only son to have the good sense to give a little thought to your gift. The chicken was delicious. Thank you.”

(author unknown)

PMS Diner

PMS Diner

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