October Giggles and Chuckles

My quiet Saturday morning ended abruptly when my 12-year-old
son, Billy, and one of his friends burst through the door.

“Hey Dad, announced Billy, “have you met the new neighbors?”

“No.”

“Come on Dad, you have to meet them.”

“Some other time; I’m busy.”

“Dad, you have to meet them now.”

From the urgency in Billy’s voice, I assumed the neighbors
were waiting outside. I set aside my project and went to the
front of the house. No one was there.

“Where are they?” I asked.

“Well, Dad,” he explained, “we haven’t met them yet either,
but our baseball is in their living room!”

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A husband reading a newspaper says to his wife, “You know,
honey, I think there might be some real merit to what this
article says, that the intelligence of a father often proves
a stumbling block to the son.”

“Well, thank heaven,” said the wife, “at least our James has
nothing standing in his way.”

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The pastor’s sermon focused on how God know’s which of us
grows best in the sunlight and which of us needs shade.

“For example,” he said, “roses must be planted in the sun,
but fuchsias thrive in the shade.”

After the service, a woman, her face beaming, approached
him.

“Your sermon did me so much good,” she said.

Before he had time to gloat too much, however, she added,
“I always wondered what was wrong with my fuchsias.”

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After our friend Tom had been a temporary Bachelor for
several weeks, we stopped by his Home to visit him. My wife
asked if he was eating Properly. “Well, I do eat a lot of
dog food,” Tom Told her.

“Dog food!” my wife exclaimed, horrified. “I can’t believe
you would be eating anything Like that!”

“Come to the kitchen and I’ll show you,” Tom replied.

Opening the refrigerator door, He waved his hand at a row
of doggie bags from half of the restaurants in town.