Everybody Ought to Go to Sunday School #T

 This story was presented about three years ago.  As I was thinking about the Sunday post I read this  tale again.  It amused  me.  Again.  Here it is again.

Margot Goes to Sunday School
 
Somewhere, Indiana was a quiet not to say bucolic village of some five or six thousand souls.   And as to the tending of souls, the community was well-supplied with churches.  There were by most accounts twenty-three churches in the immediate environs of the community.  One was Roman Catholic, eleven were Baptist, and the remaining ones were protestant churches of various stripes.  These twenty-three do not include a Kingdom Hall and an LDS facility, both well outside the town proper, and outside the consideration of the citizenry with the exception of the adherents and devotees of those respective faiths.

This seems an awfully ponderous introduction to a light-hearted tale about a little girl and her Sunday School experience.  Yet it is somewhat germane in that it clearly points out that Somewhere was if not a religious place at least a place where the citizens respected or at least supported religious institutions.  And Margot's parents were considered to be heathens by the social standards thereabouts. Oh, Tad and Marsha were nice enough people, good moral people.  They were well-educated and successful in their chosen fields of endeavor.  But they cheerily and cheerfully ignored all attempts by friends or neighbors, laity or clerical, to entice them into participation in religious services.

But seven-year old Margot, while not a social butterfly, had developed a friendship with Luanne.  Lu's parents were staunch Methodists, pillars of Brookside UMC one might say.  Inevitably Luanne prevailed upon her friend Margot to attend Sunday school with her.  And Margot presented the case to her mother.  Mother was open-minded and not averse to the idea that her pride and joy be exposed to the other side of things, and gladly agreed that Margot might go to Sunday school.

Sunday morning Margot skipped down her front steps, blue dress, white bonnet with a broad blue ribbon and blue bow tied just above the brim.  Her Mary Janes were new and white stockings completed the ensemble.  The child skipped along the sidewalk and up the steps to the house next-door but one.  Presently Luanne joined Margot and the two skipped merrily along the walk, a bluebell and a jonquil bobbing along side by side to the Methodist Church a mere block away.

Mrs. Leffler was enthusiastically explaining to the children how God formed Adam from the dust of the earth,  then deciding the man should have a companion put him to sleep, removed a rib and formed a woman.  "Oh," exclaimed Margot, "that's disgusting!"

Startled, Mrs. Leffler said, "Excuse me?"

"First God made a man out of mud then he cut him open and took a bone to make a woman?  Mud and blood and bone?  That is disgusting."

"But, Honey, this is God's word.  It is completely true and this creation story reminds us that we are not all that high and mighty."

"Whatever.  My Mama says I am made of sugar and spice and everything nice!"

"That is a pretty thing for your mother to say, but we must take God at his word."
 ,
"Well, I am going with my Mama on this one."





Sunday school was over and the girls met Luanne's parents in the foyer.  Mrs. Jarrett said, "Won't you join us for the worship service, Margot?"

"Oh, no, thank you Mrs. Jarrett.  I gotta get on home now."

Up the front steps, in the front door.  Mama called, "Is that you, Muffin?"

"Yes, Mama."

"How was Sunday school?"

"It was fine, Mama."

"What did you learn?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Margot said as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

And on that issue Margot was completely right.

Word of the day: ponderous

I Might Have Said

Setting:  A decent restaurant, surrounded by 30 friends, eating good food and engaging in scintillating conversation.

Climax:  BBBH is placing a few morsels in the styrofoam take-home box.

Listen in.

BBBH:  Have to take a goodie home to my doggie.

J (across the table):  People food is not good for dogs.

vanilla (either because he knows everything, or because he rushes to his wife's defense): Dogs are omnivores.  Their digestive systems will handle just about anything ours will handle.  Cats, on the other hand (now he is in the TMI mode) are carnivores and their systems are designed to handle only meats.

J:  I have a friend in Florida who has a beautiful retriever that was not well.  She took the dog to the vet who told her that she should never under any circumstances allow the dog to have people food because it is not good for them.

vanilla:  (Oh, really?  Most people eat people-food that is not good for them, either.  Consider that chocolate cake there on your plate, for instance.)

 [The above is in parentheses because I did not say that, because, in fact, I only thought of it twelve hours later when I should have been sound asleep.  Dang, why does that happen to me?]

Halloween Feast Coming Up!

Not quite up to my all-time favorite Halloween cartoon, but not bad.  Boogity boogity.


2√2b²

Supper's On

BBBH:  Run over to DG and get a small sour cream.  Hurry!  Everything's ready and the sour cream is all moldy.

vanilla:  On it!

Half-mile to the store, grab the item from the cooler, get in line.  (One register open and there is ALWAYS a line.)  I am lucky, though, or so it seems.  First customer checkout almost complete and only one more between me and her.

She swipes card.  Fail.  Clerk reaches over card reader.  Peckity peck peck peck.  She swipes again.  Nothing.  Peckity peck peck peck.  She inserts card in chip reader.  Fail.

Clerk now leaves station to find manager.  Returns with manager in tow.  Manager, peckity, etc.
Swipe fail.  Manager opens what might be a secret compartment, retrieves screwdriver with strange tip.  She then steps over to the OTHER checkout station, removes card reader from its stand, turns it over, removes back.  Unscrews stuff inside, disconnects cable.  Carries object over to this checkout, lays it on counter.

Now the manager dismounts this card reader from its stand, inverts, etc.  Then she connects the cannibalized gizmo to this cable, reassembles, attaches gizmo to stand.  Then the clerk and the customer proceed to conduct business.  Manager says she will "take customers over here," as she goes to the idle register.

So man in front of me and I move on over.  He has only two items for which he pays cash.  That was quick.  My turn.  Manager rings me up, states tab, I look at empty card reader stand and say, "Oh, can't swipe my card?"

Yes, I did.

But.

I had a ten-spot in my hand.  I thought it was funny, not sure the lady did.  I mean, it was near closing time and she had probably had a long day.

(This scenario took much.  Much.  Longer to play out than it took me to write out this account.)

Tacos were good, tummy is satisfied.  Will check into a little "Walker, Texas Ranger" now.

Giving Meds to Pets

About a decade ago this one made the rounds on the internet.  I found it too funny not to share, and since it is admittedly internet lore, I feel free to steal it so I posted it here seven years ago.  We (BBBH and I) read it again last night.  Much guffawing and gasping for breath  Laugh your head off: we did. 

How To Give A Cat A Pill
1. Pick up cat and cradle it in the crook of your left arm as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side
of cat’s mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As cat opens mouth, pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to
close mouth and swallow.

2. Retrieve pill from floor and cat from behind sofa. Cradle
cat in left arm and repeat process.

3. Retrieve cat from bedroom, and throw soggy pill away.

4. Take new pill from foil wrap, cradle cat in left arm,
holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push
pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a
count of ten.

5. Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from top of
wardrobe. Call spouse from garden.

6. Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees, hold
front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to
hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth
Drop pill down ruler and rub cat’s throat vigorously.

7. Retrieve cat from curtain rail, get another pill from foil
wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep
shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set to one side for
gluing later.

8. Wrap cat in large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with
head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking
straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.

9. Check label to make sure pill not harmful to humans, drink 1
beer to take taste a way. Apply Band-Aid to spouse’s forearm and
remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap.

10. Retrieve cat from neighbor’s shed. Get another pill. Open
another beer. Place cat in cupboard, and close door on to neck, to
leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill
down throat with elastic band.

11. Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on
hinges. Drink beer. Fetch bottle of scotch. Pour shot, drink. Apply
cold compress to cheek and check records for date of last tetanus
shot. Apply whiskey compress to cheek to disinfect. Toss back another
shot. Throw Tee shirt away and fetch new one from bedroom.

12. Call fire department to retrieve the damn cat from across
the road. Apologize to neighbor who crashed into fence while swerving
to avoid cat. Take last pill from foil wrap.

13. Tie the little bastard’s front paws to rear paws with
garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining table, find heavy-duty
pruning gloves from shed. Push pill into mouth followed by large
piece of filet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertically and
pour 2 pints of water down throat to wash pill down.

14. Consume remainder of scotch. Get spouse to drive you to the
emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm
and removes pill remnants from right eye. Call furniture shop on way
home to order new table.

15. Arrange for SPCA to collect mutant cat from hell and call
local pet shop to see if they have any hamsters.

Conversely (and for the sake of completion)…

How To Give A Dog A Pill

1. Wrap it in bacon.
2. Toss it in the air

In the interest of full disclosure:  The dog deftly snatches the bacon from the air, eats same.  Later I find the pill on the floor.

Love Lifted Me

I have a computer the keyboard of  which is  laid out  in such fashion that the "Delete" button is directly above the "Backspace" key.

I had (I thought) a beautiful Sunday morning post prepared and thought to remove an unnecessary space in the text.  You know what  happened.

I cried.  (Well, almost.)

I did a web search in an attempt to learn how to recover a lost draft.  (Wasted the hour in which I might have rewritten the post.)

 I offer you this instead of spiritual guidance or inspiration.  (Because a laugh at my expense is all I can offer you today.  Enjoy.)

The title is the title of the original long-gone and forever-missing article.  Sing the song; it will give you a lift.

Conversation with Random People 18

I am standing at the  pharmacy counter, the  clerk is at  the computer and we are trying to deal with one  of  those government/insurance company/pharmaceutical industry issues that  contravene  the doctor's  orders, if you get my drift.  But that's not what  the story is about.

The clerk disappeared into the inner sanctum.  A man came up to me and asked, "Weren't you a math teacher?"

 "Yes," I said, "once upon a time."

"Mr. Lacy?"

 "Indeed.  And you are?"  He told me his name.  "Sure, you were one of my seventh grade students forty-seven years ago."

"Sounds about right," he said.  "You  used to dye your hair a lot darker."

Always appreciate a guy with a sense of humor.  We chatted a bit about his children and his grandchildren.  The clerk rejoined me at the counter and Pete went on his way.

Christmas Kickoff

The article on the front page of our local newspaper announced Friday's "'Tis the Season" celebration in downtown Perfect.  Many fun things planned for residents of all ages, but the clip about the ice sculptor caught my eye.  I am sure his art work is stunning and to see him work should be entertaining.

But the thing I wonder is Where on Earth did he find "18 odd chickens"?  I know that cats are odd, and I have seen some strange rabbits, but just what makes a chicken odd?  17 chickens would be an odd number of chickens, but eighteen?

I am so confused.  Silly, too.

Well, it is December now, so on with the Christmas celebrations!

Light Housekeeping

Funny thing, I told Herk.  Housekeeping, I mean.      

How so?

When I was a kid, I could seldom get it good enough to please Mama; lot of chores done twice.

Herkimer chuckled.

But I got pretty good at it, and now I am thinking, I said, how much things change.

Herkimer, quizzically, Really?

Yeah, I explained, for years meeting Mama's standard in my own home was the goal.  You know, perfection.  But as I got older, things changed.  Now I am at a point where "good enough" is good enough.  At the rate I am going, the day will come when "not at all" is good enough.

Herkie laughed.  I was just remembering, he remarked, the early times in my married life.

Do tell, I encouraged.

Well, he said, Tildy and I had been married maybe two, three weeks.  I remarked to her that the house looked like she needed to dust.

Dust? she asked, in all seriousness.  What's "dust"?

 From Bob Warr and Picket Fences

with Bob's permission.

Today's Chuckle

The chuckle.
 
Joe and I are sitting at adjoining tables, back to back.

Joe:  (To his table mates)  "I am gonna live to be a hundred.  I still have lots of people to piss off."

Me:  *laughing out loud*

And not so funny, but a day-brightener.

Rocky tells us he is getting his scooter today, his face lit up like Christmas.  Boy and new Toy.

"So you'll soon be racing up and down the halls frightening all the old ladies."

Not really the case, for following a couple days of learning to drive his new vehicle he will disappear from these premises.  And good for him.

Serendipity

I went to the store to pick up a couple of items.   Found some patching compound but wasn't sure it would satisfy the conditions, so I left it on the shelf.  Wanted some play sand; didn't find any.  Bought a furnace filter and exited the store.  Got into the car and headed to the exit.  100 meters from the store and just to the left of the drive that takes us out of the parking lot I spied a pallet.  On the pallet were twelve or fifteen bags of play sand.  Store pricing was attached.  Drove back to a parking spot and reentered the store.

I told the people I wanted a bag of play sand.  "We are out.  Don't have any."  "Yes, you have a pallet across the lot behind the bank.  Four twenty-nine a bag."

Confusion reigned.

The clerk finally rang up the sale (item not logged into the computer, so you know how that worked.)  I paid and as I left the lady said, "If there isn't any there we will refund your money."

If there isn't any there?

I have a bag of sand in my garage all ready for the fall flower planting.  Soon as the wind blows itself out of the neighborhood.

Image: Google Earth