ADD Ramblings

This just about sums it up for me:

"One day a beaver and a termite were walking down the road together. 'I can eat through a tree with my teeth,' said the beaver.

'That’s nothing,' said the termite, 'I can burrow through a tree.'

Then they heard a voice behind them. 'You two think you’re so smart, but you’re NOTHING!' It was a bitter old drunk lady." --Jack Handy

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This weekend Jack was pulling out drawers and rummaging through cabinets in the kitchen—nonfood-oriented cabinets and drawers, mind you. “What are you looking for?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Then how will you know if you find it?” I foolishly inquired.

“Oh, I’ll know!” he replied.

O-kee-doh-key.

******

"Life is a constant battle between the heart and the brain. But guess who wins? The skeleton."
--Jack Handy

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I went to the UPS store to mail our taxes (another year of extensions). This lady with a nasal voice and an abrasive NY accent (sorry, but not really) was going on and on about how another place hadn’t charged her as much for shipping a larger box the week before, so she was going somewhere else to complain some more. Then she complained some more about the packing cost. Then she complained that they put too much tape on the box, so where was she going to put the label when she supposedly got a cheaper price from the other place where she was going to complain? All of this in this high nostril tril while I was in the middle of my would-have-been brief transaction.

The guy helping me told her that he would help her with the package if she would just wait two seconds, but she said she’d drive her car up and get it herself because she didn’t want to have to carry it all that way. When she came back in, the UPS employee offered again to help. “No, I’ll just have to carry it myself,” she opined.

As she struggled through the door, it took her several times to get through—she bumped against the sides of the door repeatedly with the big package, struggling to see her way through--but I just leaned against the counter and watched. So did he. Then I said, “What a whiner! Anybody else, I would have held the door open or something, but I really didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, I agree,” he said.

Is that bad?

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“Instead of a trap door, what about an area of the floor that just shoots up real quick and smashes the guy against the ceiling?”--Jack Handy

"People were always talking about how mean this guy was who lived on our block. But I decided to go see for myself. I went to his door, but he said he wasn't the mean guy, the mean guy lived in that house over there. 'No, you stupid idiot," I said. 'That's MY house.'" --Jack Handy

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For some reason, David and I were talking about sunburn. I told him about my Dad’s (his grandfather’s) love of the latest trends. For example, I know he was the first in the neighborhood to bring home the “Peppermint Twist” album.

Anyway, in the early 1970s—yes people still were alive then who are miraculously living today—he purchased a sun lamp with an alternate therapeutic heat lamp bulb. Jennifer (younger sister, but in her teens, so age is no excuse) decided to see if the warming bulb would melt a caramel on her head. So she unwrapped a Kraft caramel, stuck in on her head, and fell asleep under the lamp. Sadly, she mistakenly had the sun lamp in the fixture, not the heat lamp, so she woke up with a terrific burn and a prominent white square in the middle of her forehead that was near to impossible to cover with makeup for over a week.

“Don’t we have any normal family stories that I can pass on to my children?” David asked.

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“I hope I never do anything to bring shame on myself, my family, or my other family.”—Jack Handy