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A Case of Moosetaken Identity
About twelve years ago I had an amusing experience in my hometown in rural Newfoundland and Labrador when my family and I were visiting my parents on a weekend in early September. That Saturday evening, forty minutes or so before dark, I decided to go into the backyard to clear away some small trees that I had cut during the previous spring. At that time, I had left them in a pile at the back of the yard. Now it was time to toss them into the woods skirting the back of the lot. During my endeavor, I was making quite a bit of noise transferring the sticks to their new location. After a few minutes, I heard a voice coming from the lot next door, "What's that? Sounds like a moose up in the woods!" I wondered if I was the subject of this inquiry, but for now, I gave it the benefit of the doubt. I continued performing the task I was so diligently working at when I heard the voice yet again saying to his buddy, who had just arrived on the scene, "There's something up there in the woods! Sounds like a moose or a bear!" I was now definitely starting to feel that I was the subject of the conversation, but I still decided to remain anonymous. By the time a few more minutes had passed, the racket I was making was drawing quite a crowd, and I heard, "There's something up there in the woods! It could be a moose, or it could be a bear!" Another voice said, "Sure throw a rock in there!" Fearing a pummeling from a barrage of igneous projectiles, I figured that the time had finally arrived to reveal my identity. So, I spoke up, "It could be a fellow clearing away a bit of brush!" A voice came back, "Yeah! It could be that too." Neither I nor anyone in the group of onlookers said anything else. I had known the woman who lived next door ever since we were kids. A few days later I contacted her on Facebook, and we had a big laugh over the whole incident.
Opened and Closed
A friend of mine tried an unusual way to test the sensors on his garage when the door wouldn't close completely. With no one around he placed a mat on the garage floor, hit the close button and laying down he put his leg directly under the door. As the door came down he didn't realize that his leg was below the sensors until it pinned his leg. What a mess he was in. He could not reach the open button and was trapped with his leg increasingly aching. Dropping in for a visit I was just about to open the front door when I heard someone yell "Help! Help!" from the vicinity of the garage door. I immediately saw a leg protruding from underneath the door and called out. He shouted out the code and as the door opened I saw him lying on the mat laughing loudly, but with a very embarrassed red face. A lesson learned and a predicament I'll never forget.
A friend of mine suspected that his neighbor was being too familiar with his wife. Sure enough, one day he came home and discovered him in the house. Over the fence went the neighbor and a shot was fired. They went to court over it. "What is your defense?", asked the magistrate. "Did you shoot him in self-defense?" "No, yer honour," my friend replied, "I shot 'im goin over de fence."
How do hens dance? Chick to chick! Why shouldn't you eat your chocolate bunnies right away? If you wait, they might multiply! Who tells the best egg jokes? A comedi-hen! What can a white hen do that a black hen can't? Lay an egg the same colour as itself! Does a rabbit come from an egg? No, a rabbit comes from a magician's hat! What do you use to comb a rabbit? A hare brush! What's a rabbit's favourite game? Hopscotch! What did the chick say when it came out of its shell? What an eggs-perience! How does a hen tell time? One o'cluck, two o'cluck, three o'cluck!
You're a Stinker!
I have a good friend from the Rock who recently passed along to me his November issue of Downhome. I read with great delight "Making a Stink" on page 24. It brought back almost forgotten memory from many years ago. I would be in my mid-teens at the time and lived near Owen Sound, Ontario. It was the eve of Halloween and I had joined three of my buddies. Two were a minister's sons so I was under the mistaken belief that I was in good company. We had a small conference and decided that we were too old for collecting candy but not for a prank or two. I related to my friends something my father had told me earlier - when he was about the age we were, the morning after Halloween many of the streets in Owen Sound were impassable because everyone's outhouse had been moved from their backyards to the centre of the street! Unfortunately we were living in modern times and everyone had indoor plumbing. Sad for us, until one of us remembered a family who lived on the outskirts of Owen Sound and still had such a facility. We made our way to their residence and down the driveway to the backyard that was very dark. With a little light from the stars, we could make out the outline of the parliament building. We tiptoed to the back of the wee house and on a prearranged signal, we pushed it over on its front side which also contained the door. The screaming and bellowing that emitted from it scared us half to death. We had no idea that it was occupied by the lady of the manor! We were also amazed at how fast we could run. We never stopped until we reached the cemetery a little further down the street where we sat on tombstones until all the yelling and sirens quieted down, then made our way home quite satisfied with our devilment. The following year our gang met again but could not think of anything to top the previous year's caper. Our unanimous agreement was to do it again. Once more we ventured into their backyard, mildly surprised that the place was not all lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve. This time our youngest partner in crime, Gerry, was in the lead. (I am using his correct name because he is now a lawyer and can plead his own defence.) As Gerry stepped around the back of the building with us in hot pursuit we discovered that the old gentleman was more astute than we gave him credit. He had moved the building forward the width of itself. Down went Gerry up to his waist in, well, here you may fill in the blank with your own favourite name for it. Naturally, having great loyalty for each other, we left poor Gerry to fend for himself. Gerry told us later (when again he started to speak to us), that he had gone down to the river and swam in the cold, cold water (it was late October) until he could present himself at home. His parents were still not impressed with his condition. His father was overheard to mutter, "You were a little stinker last year with that trick you pulled, and a bigger one this year!"
A Holy Snack
Some years ago I was the Rector's warden in a parish in NL. Not being from the area, the rector and his family became real good friends of myself and my wife. One Sunday at the Holy Eucharist Service his youngest son, a little boy at the time, was seated next to me. He became bored with the service and decided to do a little exploring. He went in to the vestry, a room at the back of the church where the supply of communion bread and wine were kept. Gone for some five minutes, I felt it was my responsibility to check on his well-being. I entered the room to find him with his mouth completely full of communion bread. Suppressing my desire to laugh I closed the door and took him back to his seat. As the service progressed, he wanted a change of scenery, so he went to sit by my wife in the choir section, next to the communion rail. As the congregation proceeded to receive the bread and wine, the little guy looked at my wife and said "Golda, I had mine." Not knowing what had transpired earlier, my wife was puzzled as to what he meant by this. After the service, I filled her in as to what had taken place in the vestry room. Needless to say, when I related 'what had happened' during the service, the little guy's parents' couldn't help but find it very amusing. The reverend stated that one day he might try to base a sermon around it.
It is a very hot day and I've invited some ladies in for a card game, tea and dessert. I will visit my neighbor before I hurry home to clean and bake. When I get there I always take the key out of the ignition as I've locked my key in before. I visit for a short time and go to leave. No key! I ask my neighbor to drive me home to get an extra key. As I prepare for my guests, the lost key keeps nagging at me. I return to desperately rake the half inch of grass and, with superhuman strength, I pull the doorstop off the cement to look under it. No key! I complain that afternoon to my friends as it is a key fob which will cost me about $350 to replace. The party goes well and the ladies go home. I will relax in a nice, cool shower and try to collect my thoughts. As I remove my bra I hear a small thump on the bathroom floor. My key!! In my rush at my neighbour's and having no pockets, I slipped the key inside my bra! I have never used my bra as a pocket and I'm sure I never will again!
When I visited my son and his family, my 4 year old grandson, Tyler, often got in bed with me early in the morning. One morning while he lay face to face with me on the pillow he sheepishly asked, "How come some people get wrinkles?" I told him, "as we get older some people get wrinkles." Later that morning when he saw me putting moisturizer on my face he asked, "What are you putting on your face, Nan?" I told him it was moisturizer so I wouldn't get wrinkles. He quickly says, "How come it doesn't work?"
Truth be Told
When my grandson Jared was about three years old, his mother Kim took him for a dental checkup. The assistant, helping to make him feel at ease, said, "Does everyone know what beautiful big blue eyes you have, Jared?" He thought for a moment and spread out his little hands and said, "I don't think so, 'cause I don't know everyone!"
On an early spring afternoon, snow banks melting, water running down the curb, us boys had just finished up with the first marble tournament of the season. Many cat-eyes and boulders were won and exchanged. My sister had gotten a new skipping rope for Easter. The girls were getting back in practice and had started their own tournament of Double Dutch. Not having enough for teams, us guys were invited to participate. We guys took on the challenge. It was my turn to enter the rapid double swinging ropes. As I was jumping up and down, my pants fell down! Standing there in boxers, tangled in jumping ropes, the neighbourhood was filled with howls of laughter. Stomach-aching bellows of laughter echoed up and down the street. Some of our mothers came out to see what was going on. Upon seeing me standing there, pants down, they joined the chorus of hearty, belly-aching laughter. As for the tournament -called off.
Grandchildren say the funniest things.
My grandson and I are always bantering with one another. Just recently I was teasing him in a playful way about some of his his characteristics and actions. Sitting across from him , somewhat slumped on a couch, he looked at me and in his own witty way said, "Pop, if your stomach gets any bigger you are going to have stretch marks on your shirt." From the mouths of babes.
Ginger ale legs
My daughter Shawna had been sitting on her legs during supper and her legs went to 'sleep.' We all know what this feels like, but she put a slightly different twist on the experience. When she tried to stand and her legs began to 'wake up' her comment was, "Oh daddy my legs feel like ginger ale!" Ralph Matthews St. Stephen, NB
Our granddaughter, Charolette is nineteen months old. She is smart, determined and bossy. One of her favorite games at mealtime is to throw her plate and fork on the floor after finishing the food. At first we would pick it up and give it back to her but we soon learned to leave it on the floor because she would immediately throw it again. At mealtime last Sunday she finished her food and then threw the fork and plate on the floor. She then looked at me, pointed to the items on the floor and said, "Fetch"!
When I was teaching in a small Northern community, one day I was chatting with the local merchant, who told me about one of the men in the community. I'll call him "Harry", so as not to implicate anyone. The conversation went like this: Harry: Good marnin', sir. Storekeeper: Good morning, Harry. What can I do for you today? Harry; Well, sir, me wife is havin a birthday dis week, and I wants to get her a new dress. Storekeeper: That's fine. We have a good selection of dresses here. What size do you want? Harry: Don't matter none. Just give me whatever you t'inks is good. Storekeeper. What colour would you like? Harry: 'Tidden no odds. You knows as well as I do dat whatever I gets, she will bring it back anyway. So just give me any'ting a'tall. The storekeeper obliged, chose a dress, wrapped, and Harry paid for it and left quite contented. The following week, his wife came to the store; returned the dress, and chose one she liked.
The Great Christmas Tree Exchange
It was in the late 1950's and it was about 3 weeks before Christmas. It was on a Saturday afternoon and my mother asked my dad to take my brother and I to the local Christmas tree lot to pick a tree. My dad thought he had found the perfect tree. When we got home, my dad wanted to show my mother the lovely tree he had found. We put the tree in the garage to keep it safe until we were ready to bring it into the house for decorating. On Monday morning, my dad, who was a dentist, headed into his dental office to see patients. Unbeknownst to my father and after he had left for his office, my mother asked my brother and I to put the tree back in the trunk of the car because she wanted to exchange it! My mother drove us back to the Christmas tree lot where we had purchased the first tree from and she explained to the owner that she wasn't happy with the tree and could she exchange it for one she liked. The owner was happy to help and we headed back home and put the new tree in the same spot in the garage. My mother asked my brother and I not to tell our father, because she didn't want to hurt his feelings. The day came when the tree was brought into the house and it was all decorated, ready for Christmas. My father stood back and admired the tree, but it wasn't the tree he had chosen! My brother and I kept our promise to our mother and we never told our dad about the great Christmas tree exchange we had pulled off.
Joking around with mom
A few weeks ago, my mom and I cleaned up the garden because a local cat had dug up some of the bulbs. "Want to hear a joke?" I asked. "That would be paw-some,"my mom said. "Knock, knock,"I said. "Who is there?" my mom asked. "Pancake." I said. "Pancake who?" my mom asked. "A parrot meets a monkey in an office skyscraper," I said. "What happened to the pancake?" My mom asked. "I changed my mind,"I said. "You have to be kitten me." My mom said. "So, the parrot insulted the monkey's uncle," I said. "The monkey threw an office pencil at the bird, but he missed, and the pencil flew out the window. Enraged, the monkey grabbed the parrot and threw the talking bird out the window too." "Oh, no!" My mom said. "The parrot flew back in with the pancake in its beak." "That's what happened to the pancake!" My mom said. "And the pencil was never seen again!"I added.