memoir

Children’s Biblical Misunderstandings

In the first book of the bible, Guinessis, God got tired of creating the world, so he took the Sabbath off.

Adam & Eve were created from an apple tree.

Noah’s wife was called Joan of Ark.

Noah built the ark, which the animals came on in pears.

Lot’s wife was a pillar of salt by day, but a ball of fire by night.

The Jews were a proud people and throughout history they had trouble with unsympathetic Genitals.

Sampson was a strongman who let himself be led astray by a jezebel like Delilah.

Sampson slated the Philistines with the axe of apostles.

Moses led the Hebrews to the Red Sea, where they made unleavened bread, which is bread made without any ingredients.

The Egyptians were all drowned in the dessert.

Afterward, Moses went up on Mount Cyanide to get the Ten Amendments.

The first commandment was when Eve told Adam to eat the apple.

The Fifth Commandment is humor thy mother and father.

The Seventh Commandment is thou shalt not admit adultery.

Moses died before he ever reached the UK. Then, Joshua led the Hebrews in the Battle of Geritol.

The greatest miracle in the Bible is when Joshua told his son to stand still and he obeyed him.

David was a Hebrew king skilled at playing the liar. He fought with the Finkelsteins, a race of people who lived in the biblical times.

Solomon, one of David’s sons, has 300 wives and 700 porcupines.

When Mary heard that she was the Mother of Jesus, she sang the Magna Carta.

When the three wise guys from the East Side arrived, they found Jesus and the manager.

Jesus was born because Mary had an emaculate contraption.

St. John, the Blacksmith, dumped water on his head.

Jesus enunciated the Golden Rule, which says to do one to others before they do one to you.

He also explained, “Man doth not live by sweat alone.”

The people who followed the Lord were called the 12 decibels.

The epistles were the wives of the apostles.

One of the opossums was St. Matthew, who was by profession a taximan.

St. Paul cavorted to Christianity. He preached holy acrimony, which is another name for marriage.

A Christian should have only one wife. This is called monotony.

Sunday School

A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her class. After explaining the commandment to ‘Honor thy father and thy mother,’ she asked, ‘Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?’
Without missing a beat, a six-year-old boy answered, ‘Thou shall not kill..’

Hang on to It!

A stingy old lawyer who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness was determined to take his money with him when he died.

After much thought and consideration, the old ambulance-chaser finally came up with a plan to hang on to his money when he died.

He had his wife to go to the bank and withdraw enough money to fill two pillowcases. He then directed her to take the bags of money to the attic and leave them directly above his bed.

His plan: When he passed away, he would reach out and grab the bags on his way to heaven. Several weeks after the funeral, the deceased lawyer’s wife, up in the attic cleaning came upon the two forgotten pillowcases stuffed with cash.

“Oh, that old fool,” she exclaimed. “I knew he should have had me put the money in the basement.”

That would look good on my buffet!

A friend made this video of my mother for her 96th birthday celebration. Mother was ecstatic. Please check my friend’s facebook site and support her.

Making an Ass of Myself at a Funeral

On the ride out to our old neighbor’s funeral, Billy told me about “a friend” of his who had embarrassed himself in the drive-through line of a hamburger joint earlier that week.  The “friend” had gotten stuck in line, right next to the speaker.  He called out several times with no response.  He was wedged in.  It was hot.  He was hotter! He couldn’t order, go backward or forward, so did the only reasonable thing.  He cursed loudly about waiting in the heat, abusing the reputation of the restaurant, the employees, their forbears, and hamburgers joints in general, pounding his steering wheel to make a point!

After a bit of this infantile behavior, the speaker clicked on.  “May I take your order, please?”  Relieved, he gave his order and pulled up.  When he got to the window, he found a sea of faces waiting to see the idiot they’d heard throwing the fit.  The speaker had been on the whole time.

He finished his story just as we squeaked into the churchyard.  We filed in with the mourners, taking a seat.  As the services started, it was pretty warm.  Before long, it was hot as Hades. Obviously the air conditioner was on the blink.  Billy grinned and whispered to me, “It’s hot.”  Remembering his ‘friend’, I stifled a giggle.  As the eulogy continued and mourners sniffled, I struggled to maintain my composure, not daring to look at him.  We were both shaking silently, as though overcome by grief.  The blazing heat miraculously unstopped my sinuses.  Suddenly, a river of snot cascaded from my nose as I burst into maniacal laughter.  Vainly, I instituted an ineffective snot management manuever while futilely trying to give the impression of being overcome by grief, not insane laughter. It might have been more convincing had brother, Bozo the Clown, not been beside me in the same state. We fled without trying to console the family, figuring we’d done enough.

Bad Words

I suffered painfully through a childhood of deprivation, denied the use of titillating words, a victim of being “raised right.” Mother took pride in being ladylike, totally unconcerned about my needs. Worst of all, she set a good example, never uttering an expletive worse than “Durn!” except on two notable occasions. Once she muttered “Damn!” under her breath when I rounded a corner too fast with a grocery cart and pegged the back of her heel while she was on tip-toe reaching for a bottle of ketchup. I was sure she kill me when she recovered. Fortunately, she was too horrified and guilt-ridden to ever mention it again or I wouldn’t be here to tell the story. Some years later, she banged her head on an open cupboard door and swore. She probably concussed herself and self-righteously denies saying “Damn!” to this day.

My bevy of lucky cousins enthusiastically filled me in on titillating words. Their happy chatter was enticingly peppered with butt, doo doo, ka ka, pee pee, and even dookey. My “bottom” was warmed nicely the first time I tossed out “dookey.” From then on, every time I was around the incorrigibles, Mother warned me not to acquire any new words. I had to say “gee gee” and “wee wee” instead of the good ones we all know and love. I can’t convey how humiliating it was to be a gee gee person in a world of doo dooers, so I learned to keep my silly business to myself. Should it be absolutely necessary to mention anatomy, “bottom” should be whispered. There were no “titties” in our world, just chests,; no “titty babies”, just crybabies. Worst of all, Mother had me convinced I couldn’t sneak anything in. “Mothers know!”

Then I started school. I’d been with Mother in public bathrooms and delighted in graffiti, till she rushed me out.The school bathroom serving the playground was glorious with graffiti and scribblings I couldn’t wait to decipher. The proudest day of my life was when I worked out “piss on the wall. S—-on the floor. I fell in love with reading that moment.

Life improved after I married and set priorities My mental health and Bud’s survival necessitated some vocabulary modifications. Life has been so much smoother since then.

Every Dog Has His Day

Croc is a big, big, dog. I dread taking him to the veterinarian and am always so excited to learn we are to see the pudgy vet. This kindly man recommends a generous weight of one hundred ten pounds. The skinny vet always scowls while counseling me to get Croc down to ninety pounds, closer to her own weight. Fortunately, for his self image, Croc doesn’t suffer from fat-shaming. On our last visit, we were met by two nubile young technicians. Enchanted, Croc fairly danced as he tugged them to the scale for his weigh in. Back in the exam room, he beamed as they reported his weight of one hundred twenty-five pounds. In a fit of hormone-laced ecstasy, he sped back seating himself on the scale again, hoping for further praise.

It worked.

Paint Job

A woman calls a Contractor to her house to give her a bid on painting the interior of her house. She takes him into the first room and tells him that she wants it painted pale green. The contractor writes something down on his notepad, goes over to the window and yells down “green side up”. The homeowner takes him into the next room and tells him that she would like it painted rose colored. The contractor again notes it on his note pad, goes over to the window and opens it. He then yells down “green side up”. The woman was curious, but continued to show him the rest of the house. In each room the contractor notes her color choice on his notepad and yells out the window “green side up”. When the homeowner had completed the tour, she asked the contractor why he always yelled “green side up” when she told him her color choice, when the colors were all different. He laughed and replied I have a crew of blondes across the street laying sod.

The Old Lady the Cow and the Pig

The time in our doctor’s waiting room became unexpectedly enjoyable as we sat with an elderly lady and her family. No one had said much beyond “Good morning” till the elderly lady asked her daughter to push her closer so she could admire the ornaments on the tree The doctor had so generously decorated for her patients’ pleasure. She laughed and said, “I am eighty-three years old. I’ve come all the way from chopping wood to people walking on the moon. Oh, I’ve chopped lots of wood.” As she talked on, she cackled as she told this one. “I’ve milked many a cow in my time, many a cow. I remember one time, I was ‘a milking two titties and a pig was ‘a sucking on the other side.” She had us all laughing along with her. We would have loved to spend the rest of the day with her. What a wonderful visit we had!

Sunday at the Swain’s

Mother was a true Daughter of the Bible Belt. Daddy was a man of the “Old South. Mother’s regular days were demanding, but preparation for Sundays was brutal. There were five children in our family;two older girls, the “big” girls then my brother, each three years apart. When my brother was five, my parents got reacquainted and had two more girls about a year apart, known as “little” girls. I quickly noticed the little girls had made a better decision than I when joining the family lineup. Their role was to be sweetly precious while the “big” girls were promoted to unpaid household help; sweeping, mopping, cooking, cleaning, evening farm chores. I didn’t care for any of that, but of course, I was conscripted, not a volunteer.

Mother’s life was unenviable by most standards. When her normal duties on late Saturday were done, it was time for us to get shoes polished, clothes starched and ironed, and baths and pin-curling done. I would have gladly foregone the torture of having my fine, lank hair slimed up with Dippity-Do, but my opinion was irrelevant. She hated having her girls show up on Sunday with stringy hair. Mother clenched me between her knees, wound my pre-slimed hair tightly around her finger and slid in criss-crossed Bobby -Pins to hold the recalcitrant curls in place. The pins wouldn’t have goudged a groove as they slid in had I had resisted the temptation to bite the plastic tips off the pins, but alas, I was a slow learner. The pin-curled mess was wrapped snugly in a scarf overnight to keep curls from working loose, leaving one straight sprig claiming independence from it’s frazzled friends. I hated the curly do that taunted me in the mirror the next morning. I can’t imagine why anyone would go to all the trouble to look so awful.

Pretty often, Daddy threw a monkey wrench into Mother’s organization by electing to take us all to visit his family until late Saturday evening, often not getting us home until long after all the kids had slumped into deep sleep. As he approached home, he threw the car windows open to shock the us awake since he didn’t like carrying somnolent kids in. Unwashed kids with dirty feet tumbled into bed in their clothes. Beds would be stripped Monday.

I was grateful to forego hairdos when we were out late. Kids got spitbaths after a quick breakfast That left Saturday night’s shoe-polishing, a panicked job before Sunday school. Without fail, at least one shoe went missing, ensuring a wild search. It was almost unheard of for all pairs to be found resting cozily together under the edge of the bed as they should have been. The shoe might have escaped to the fartherest corner of the house, yard, or perhaps been kicked off in the car. While Sunday School lessons read, offering nickels were stuffed in Sunday School Collection Envelopes. Amidst this mayhem, Mother or one of her lacksadaicsical lackies had to draw Daddy’s bath, and put the soap,washcloth, towel, and church clothes out. He always dawdled over coffee, late to his bath. We alway left late for church with him preaching all the way to church because “Y’all made me late! You need to get organized!” the perfect start to a lovely Sunday. I

Swain Kids I am girl in dark sweater in back row