Posts Tagged ‘Humor’

Four Little Boys

Four little boys to clean, feed, and dress,
Four little boys all making a mess.

Four little boys, oh what mischief they made,
“Go play in the backyard, my nerves are all frayed.”

Four little boys, grown up, gone away,
Their wrestling and laughter still linger each day.

The memories so precious oft’ times make you sad,
And then you remember the ruckus you had.

Now each little boy is no longer a lad,
Sometimes how they please you, sometimes make you mad.

So when you’re unhappy and they can’t hear you shout,
Send one to the corner, and just let him pout.

Ritchie Hale, December 1999

***This poem was written for Grandma Hale, who claims she was often in tears before breakfast! 


Have a Nice Day

        At McDonald’s yesterday two gentlemen opened the door as my sister and I left the building.  They both called out to us, “Have a nice day.”  I couldn’t help but think back to another time when someone called out the same. 

       “Have a nice day,”  What a cliche’.  You’ve got to be joking.  Get this picture.  Here I am walking away from a door of a home in our community having delivered a brochure.  I step off the porch onto the ramp and the next thing I know I am sprawling across the lawn and feeling terrible pain in my right ankle and left knee.  I roll over onto my back and brush freshly cut grass from my face just as the elderly  homeowner races from his house.  He shouts for his wife to call an emergency number and then begins brushing grass from the front of my blouse  in a rather personal way while all the time emitting a steady flow  of pleas that I not sue him.  He tells me that he doesn’t have homeowners, and advises me of the futility  of suing because he doesn’t have any money anyway. If the pain wasn’t so severe  the whole situation would have been hilarious.

     By now I can sit up and from this position see clearly what caused my fall.  There on that ramp is a hole about 12 inches in diameter and 10 inches deep…covered by a large rug. He is still brushing and pleading and I am still unsure what if any damage I have sustained.  After a few moments I am able  to crawl to a sitting position on the edge of his porch and  assess the damage as minor.  I attempt to console the man that I do not plan to file any complaints against him, but do insist he do something about that hole.  As my friend helps me limp toward the car I look back one last time at the culprit in my fall and there see what I failed to see earlier.  In large red capital letters printed on the rug are the words, “HAVE A NICE DAY”.

Writing Lessons

Today I saw a beautiful car.  Someone told me it was a Lamborghini.  I had an instant flashback of an incident that happened in my classroom many years ago.  A welcomed quietness  had settled over my first  grade classroom as the children worked on their creative writing assignment.   The only sounds were those of an occassional over-dotted “i” or those made when someone tried to erase a mistake and ripped the paper.
As I was sitting at my desk I noticed one of the students raise her hand.
“Yes, Miranda.”
“Teacher, how do you spell Lamborghini ?”
I searched my memory bank quickly and could think of no word she was mistakenly mispronouncing.  Since I couldn’t figure it out I decided to let her give me some clue as to what she was talking about.
“Miranda, what is a Lamborghini ?”
Just then an amazing thing happened. As if on  cue from a rehearsed script, every head instantly came up and with one voice the children chidingly said to me,  “it’s a car !”
Not being one who keeps up with names of cars beyond Ford, Chevy, or Buick, I was a bit mistified about which cave I had  just crawled out from.
To cover the rather awkward moments of incredulous  stares, I asked the children to please get back to  work.  With much sighing and sounds of disbelief they reluctantly returned to their assignment.
A few moments later, just when I thought the incident had been forgotten, I saw Miranda lean over to her neighbor and heard her whisper a bit too loudly, “and she’s supposed to be the TEACHER !”
Aren’t kids just great!!!!!

Obeying Grandma

       As she sat on the chair at the dining room table, the top of two year old Deanna’s bouncy, red, “dog-ears” could just barely be seen.  She was reaching her arms as high as possible up onto the table, trying to draw pictures and “wite things”.

       Her grandma Lena, seeing her dilemma, suggested she write on her knees so she would be tall enough.

       Ten minutes later a surprised grandma scooped up that little red-haired bundle of energy only to discover that from mid-thigh to below her knees Deanna was covered with blue ink scribbles.

       “Deanna”, grandma exclaimed, “what have you done?”

        Deanna very sweetly answered her grandma without the slightest trace of guilt, “I wited on my knees just like you said.”

Prayer Confusion

Six-year-old Bethanyapproached my desk to share an important event in the life of her family.  Getting my undivided attention she announced with great seriousness what was on her mind.

“Mrs. Ritchie, will you pray for my daughter-in-law?” 

 Apparently she read the confused expression on my face because she quickly corrected her error. 

 “I got confused.  What I meant to say was pray for my daughter-in-law’s cousin”!

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