Pickles Tickles

The Washcloth.

There is not a woman alive today who won't crack up over this!

I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week.
Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that
I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am . I had only just
packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45 am. The
trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare.

As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when
making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the
full effort. So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the
washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in "that
area" to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in
the clothesbasket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my
appointment.

I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in.
Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table,
looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was in Paris or
some other place a million miles away. I was a little surprised when the
doctor said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't
we?" I didn't respond.

After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest
of the day was normal... some shopping, cleaning, cooking, etc.
After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out
from the bathroom, "Mommy, where's my washcloth?" I told her to get another
one from the cupboard. She replied, "No, I need the one that was here by the
sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it."

A bumper sticker on a passing car caused my husband to provide constant chuckles for those who pass by our home. When he mentioned the message on the sticker to his co-workers, he found himself being presented with a large plastic sign carrying the same message, as the staff celebrated their Christmas gift exchange.

On reading his sign, I asked what he planned on doing with it - his response: "Put it in the living room window of course" to which I replied" Go for it!". However, after a year or so of listening to one-sided remarks concerning his sign, I decide it was time to even the playing field and put up a much bigger sign of my own at the opposite end of our huge picture window. Now the chuckles are evenly balanced between the guys and the gals and we continue to view cars slowing down to read the signs as they pass by our home and neighbors out for a stroll around the block, walk past our home with a huge smile on their faces.

A burglar broke into a house one night. He shone his flashlight around, looking for valuables and when he picked up a CD player to place in his sack, a strange, disembodied voice echoed from the ark saying "Jesus is watching you." He nearly jumped out of his skin, clicked his flashlight out and froze. When he heard nothing more after a bit, he shook his head, clicked the flashlight back on and began searching for more valuables.

Just as he pulled the stereo out so he could disconnect the wires, clear as a bell he heard, "Jesus is watching you." Freaked out he shone his light around frantically, looking for the source of the voice. Finally, in the corner of the room, his flashlight beam came to rest on a parrot.

"Did you say that?" he hissed at the parrot. "Yep" the parrot confessed, "I'm trying to warn you." The burglar relaxed. "Warn me, hug? Who the heck are you?" "Moses," replied the bird. "Moses?" the burglar laughed. "What kind of stupid people would name a parrot Moses?" "Probably the same kind of people that would name a Rottweiler Jesus." the bird answered.... author unknown.

Children are known to be brutally honest and their straightforwardness can sometimes be a little hard to take. I was visiting my sister around 11 am one morning and her two children ages 2 and 3 were in the back bedroom playing. My sister often enjoyed a sip of beer as she went about her housework - although I preferred tea. Suddenly we heard a car approaching and as she looked out her kitchen window, she exclaimed, "Here come the parish priest!" as she quickly ran out of the kitchen to hide her beer bottle. Why she didn't put it in the fridge I'll never know - but it would turn out to be an embarrassing error on her part.

She invited the priest in and prepared tea for the three of us. We were just settling in for a nice conversation when her three year old son suddenly appeared in the kitchen guzzling on her half-full beer bottle. She had set it upright in the laundry basket nestled amongst the clothes - in the room where the children were playing. I tried to stifle my laughter as she took the bottle from her son while trying to offer a reasonable explanation. I knew she was mortified at what he had done, and of course, all hope of leaving a positive impression with the priest went out the window.

Not to be left out of the conversation, her son then crawled up on the priest's lap, sat looking deep into his eyes as he placed his tiny hands on either side of the priest's face, and with his halo already slightly bent and tarnished asked: "God, why don't we go to church?" By now, my laughter erupted as tears streamed down my face. The moral of this true story is to always be yourself and not what you think others will expect. What you see is what you get. It works every time.