Following in Dad’s footsteps…with a style all their own
How to emasculate your husband
Today Doug set off to Walmart to buy ammo and a part for his gun. On his way out the door, he asked me if I needed anything.
“Actually yes,” I said. “Tuesday’s Valentine’s Day, and I still haven’t gotten cards for the kids’ friends in class. Tyler would like Spiderman, and Eva would like the Disney princesses. Or Tinkerbell. Or whatever fairy you can find.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and stared.
“Oh, and socks,” I continued. “I don’t care what they look like, as long as they don’t say ‘Faded Glory’ anywhere visible.”
“Aren’t those in the women’s underwear section?” was his dry response.
“Yes, somewhere around there. Oh, and one more thing,” I added. “Eva got her hundredth stamp on her point chart today, and I promised her a My Little Pony. Can you glance through the toy section and see if they have them?”
And with that, I propped a pink post-it in his hand and sent him on his way.
One of life’s little ironies: To emasculate a dog or cat, neuter him. To emasculate a man, give him a wife, kids, and a shopping list.
World’s finest pillow
All I’m saying is God doesn’t always work to His potential.
Recently my mother came over with a bottle of hair thickening shampoo and conditioner.
“This will thicken your hair right up,” she vowed, then rolled up her sleeves and got to work.
For the next half hour she blow-dried, curled, combed, teased, tousled, fluffed, and sprayed. Within minutes, all three strands of my hair once again fell flat.
“I don’t understand it,” she vexed, her lush blonde hair swaying to and fro as she shook her head in bewilderment.
At that moment, Eva ran by, luxurious ringlets cascading down her back and bouncing with each step.
Note to God…
Singlehandedly creating the world in six days from scratch: well done. The whole eternal life in paradise package: high five. Taking a set of totally awesome genes and making them skip a generation: NOT COOL.