Do you or your family make any special dishes for the holidays?
Of course, our family has holiday favorites. Turkey is always the guest of honor. Then there’s cornbread dressing and homemade cranberry sauce. Green bean casserole is traditional along with mashed potatoes and gravy. Guests would be disappointed without sweet potato casserole and pumpkin pie. Our family usually divides up the menu items. Anticipating leftovers, guests know to bring take out containers. One time a guest said, “Wow, I didn’t bring anything and I’m taking home a feast!” I was fine with that since she was a cat lady.
Rule #1:
When in doubt – buy him a cordless drill. It does not matter if he already has one. I have a friend who owns 17 and he has yet to complain. As a man, you can never have too many cordless drills. No one knows why.Rule #2:
If you cannot afford a cordless drill, buy him anything with the word
ratchet or socket in it. Men love saying those two words. “Hey George, can I borrow your ratchet?” “OK. By the way, are you through with my 3/8-inch socket yet?” Again, no one knows why.
Rule #3:
If you are really, really broke, buy him anything for his car. A 99-cent ice scraper, a small bottle of de-icer or something to hang from his rear view mirror. Men love gifts for their cars. No one knows why.
Rule #4:
Do not buy men socks, ties, or bathrobes. “If God had wanted men to wear bathrobes, he wouldn’t have invented underwear.”
Rule #5:
You can buy men new remote controls to replace the ones they have worn out. If you have a lot of money buy your man a big-screen TV with the little picture in the corner. Watch him go wild as he flips, and flips, and flips.
Rule #6:
Do not buy a man any of those fancy liqueurs. Real men drink whiskey or beer.
Rule #7:
Do not buy any man industrial-sized canisters of after shave or deodorant.
Rule #8:
Buy men label makers. Almost as good as cordless drills. Within a couple of weeks there will be labels absolutely everywhere. “Socks. Shorts. Cups. Saucers. Door. Lock. Sink.” You get the idea. No one knows why.Rule #9:
Never buy a man anything that says “some assembly required” on the box. It will ruin his Special Day and he will always have parts left over.
Rule #10:
Good places to shop for men include Bass Pro Shop, Harbor Freight, Home Depot, Lowes, RV Centers, and Tractor Supply Company. NAPA Auto Parts and Clearance Centers are also excellent men’s stores. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know what it is. “From NAPA Auto,eh? Must be something I need. Hey! Isn’t this a starter for a ’68 Ford Fairlane? Wow! Thanks.”
Rule #11
Men enjoy danger. That’s why they never cook but they will barbecue. Get him a monster grill with a 100-pound propane tank. Tell him the gas line leaks. “Oh the thrill! The challenge! Who wants a hamburger?” If he already has a grill, definitely get him a turkey fryer. Be ready to video.
Rule #12:
Tickets to a game are a smart gift. However, he will not appreciate tickets to “A Retrospective of 19th Century Quilts.” Everyone knows why.
Rule #13:
Men love chainsaws. Never, ever, buy a man you love a chainsaw. If you don’t know why – please refer to Rule #8 and what happens when he gets a label maker.
Rule #14:
It’s hard to beat a really good wheelbarrow or an aluminum extension ladder. Never buy a real man a step ladder. It must be an extension ladder. No one knows why.
Rule #15:
Rope. Men love rope. It takes us back to our cowboy origins, or at least The Boy Scouts. Nothing says love like a hundred feet of 3/8″ manilla rope. No one knows why.
Though it’s been awhile since I inflicted any mayhem upon him, my brother says it still gives him the “willies” when I get that “Kathy Bates” look. I think he’s referring to the Annie Wilkes character she plays so winningly in the movie “Misery.” To set the record straight, I love Kathy Bates and am delighted to be compared to her. I find her personality sunny and delightful. I don’t know what his problem is. My brother and I had a few dustups as we grew up together, but goodness gracious, what children didn’t? True, I had to set him straight from time to time, but never actually broke his legs with a sledgehammer. We were raised in a Christian home and both knew Mother would murder us if we ever harmed each other to the point that one of us had to have stitches or a cast. Money didn’t grow on trees. Is there anything at all in this sweet face to suggest a “Kathy Bates” look?
Do you mind if I sit beside you?” The girl replied with a loud voice, “NO, I DON ‘T WANT TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH YOU!” All the students in the library started staring at the guy; he was truly embarrassed.
After a couple of minutes, the girl walked quietly to the guy ‘s table and said, “I study psychology, and I know what a man is thinking. I guess you felt embarrassed, right?”
The guy then responded with a loud voice, “$500 FOR ONE NIGHT? THAT ‘S WAY TOO MUCH!”
All the people in the library looked at the girl in shock.
The guy stood and whispered in her ear, “I study law, and I know how to screw people.”
In our rural community, we didn’t have phones till the early sixties.Only one or two mothers in the whole community worked. Most families had only one car, so women were most likely home unless they walked to a near neighbor’s home for coffee accompanied by their infants and toddlers. The point of this story is, when we got in trouble at school, the news often beat us home. I don’t know how, but Mother invariably knew what I’d gotten in trouble for.
I suspect my older sister may have ratted me out, or the teacher sent a sneaky note home by her, but news always got home. A few times, my mother heard through the grapevine. It was certainly a different day and time. Should my offense be minor, Mother took care of the problem, but if it were a matter heinous enough to warrant a note or invitation to a conference at school, I had to deal with Daddy. That was never nice. It would have been so much happier for me if my parents had held the teacher’s attitude or methods responsible, but alas, the judgment came right back to me.
Once we’d gone enough miles it was unlikely we would be apprehended with bathroom destruction with malice aforethought, I pulled into a nice looking station/store. This one looked like it was progressive enough to have excellent bathroom facilities, which we sorely in needed by now, since Mother was the only one who got to use the restroom at the last stop. For once, she generously, encouraged her daughters to go first, which we lived to regret. I’d have loved to have laid the blame at her door for what we found.
Marilyn, my youngest sister, rushed in to relieve her agonized bladder. In three seconds, she rushed out, “Oh, my gosh! You’ve got to see this!”
She obviously hadn’t had time to take care of any business. As mother of two teen-aged girls, the manager of a call-center, and youngest of five children, it takes something special to rattle her.
Like an idiot, I followed her in. Someone, a very healthy eater by the way, had obviously paid a visit. The nauseating smell of fermented feces greeted us as we entered the bathroom. It was horrendous, but I’ve been known to raise a stink myself.
Upon opening the stall, I saw a perfect liquefied poop sunburst splattered above the toilet. Obviously, someone in great distress had blown a gasket as just as they stooped to settle in for a satisfying moment of quality time alone. The toilet fixtures, the wall behind the toilet, the floor, and the stall wall were covered artistically with a thoroughly natural medium.
It doesn’t bear thinking of the condition of that poor unfortunate perpetrator of the masterpiece as she exited the store! We scurried out to tell the disgusted clerk what we’d found, only to find numerous visitors had already enlightened her. That’s when we learned about the worst job in the world. An industrial service was on its way.
Once more, courting legal problems, we decided to stand guard for each other and use the Men’s Room. Normally, I would have been disgusted, but compared to what we’d just seen, it smelled like a rose.
In our rural community, we didn’t have phones till the early sixties.Only one or two mothers in the whole community worked. Most families had only one car, so women were most likely home unless they walked to a near neighbor’s home for coffee accompanied by their infants and toddlers. The point of this story is, when we got in trouble at school, the news often beat us home. I don’t know how, but Mother invariably knew what I’d gotten in trouble for.
Nutsrok 