LAUGHING IN THE CARD SHOP

Years and years and years ago Mom and I stood at the card display at ZCMI. We laughed so hard we had to lean on each other to keep from falling over. People coming down the escalator from the second floor didn't know what to make of us. Some smiled and some looked away, maybe they were embarrassed to see two grown women being so silly. I secretly think they might have been a teeny bit jealous that we were such good friends and were having such a good time with each other.

I have looked back on that day time and time again, feeling happy I had that funny time with my mom and then sad that I would never have another one.

Today was a tender mercy day for me. Pam and I had gone to the mall to buy a gift for a friend's birthday. Then we needed a card. We found beautiful, sentimental ones. I bawled, and told her about my difficult week. She sympathized and said, "There, there."

I wiped my tears and we found the "other" section. Soon we smiled. The smiles turned into grins and then into laughter and then...well, it was like time had backtracked. I felt like Mom was there, leaning over our shoulders, laughing with us. We read card after card, some so silly they made no sense and yet were hilarious.

I thought I would remember the caption on this one but can't. Isn't he something? The fun must never stop for him.

This is a perfect visual of my life. I should have bought it and framed it. It's funny, isn't it? You have to laugh when your life's like this. Pam, laughing at yet another funny card. A friend who is willing to be there for me in good and bad times. What would I do without her?And Mom? I know she was there, I just know it. I'm so glad she got to see that the laughter in the card section is alive and well.

A PERSONAL HISTORY STORY--THE HERTZ DONUT: HOW TO TEACH YOUR CHILDREN THE FINE ART OF REVENGE

I had sent Kraut to the spooky basement in our Richfield house. He was trudging upstairs with the needed item for dinner when I got a brilliant idea. It was an old joke but I was pretty sure he hadn’t head it. He was the only one old enough to get the joke so I told The Brown Dot and Gilmore Girl, “Watch this.”

Kraut opened the ten-foot—or so it seemed—door and came into the kitchen trailing cobwebs—or so it seemed. The basement was a primitive place. The home was seventy years old then—it would be one hundred now and the basement seemed as old, and as spooky, as the tombs of Egypt.

“Hey,” I said. “How would you like a nice Hertz Donut?”

His eyes lit up. I could tell he thought it might have been a specialty pastry from Parson’s Bakery. He deserved a treat after going to the basement-of-dark-unmentionable-horrors.

“Uh huh,” he said, nodding and grinning.

I balled up my fist and punched him on the arm. “Hurt’s, don’t it? I said.”

The look on his little face! I regretted my actions immediately, The other kids thought it was hilarious and I encouraged him to laugh—after all, the advice my mother gave me most often was, “Learn to laugh at yourself, Lynne.” If I heard that once I heard it one thousand times. Thank you, Mother. I finally got the message.

Kraut did laugh. A little. And then he plotted his revenge. For years he plotted.

One day, when he was a teenager he came to me and said, “I’ll bet I can pull a hair out of your head and you won’t even feel it.”

No way. I have a tender head. I feel any little tug of a hair. Of course he planned his demonstration when everyone was in attendance: The Brown Dot, Gilmore Girl and there was a new audience member, Lord Bumhampton.

Kraut carefully picked out his favorite hair and just as he yanked he hit me on the other side of the head with his other hand. He was right. I didn’t feel the hair being pulled out. I may have seen stars.

“See?” he said. Of course I couldn’t hear him over the hysteria of the other three children and had to lip read. And then I couldn’t help it. I exploded with laughter.

He plotted for years and he was a success. We ought to keep this going, don’t you think? So, I’ve been plotting re-revenge for years, too. It’s almost time.

PS Twice, or maybe even three times I have taken a dozen of the best donuts I could find to Kraut as an apology. He looks at them with lowered eyelids. Can we say, "It's all right, Mom. It was a pretty good joke." After all, it's not brain surgery—which I may need someday from the whack on the side of the head. What sort of apology do you suppose I'll get?

I like "cream filled" and "lemon," Kraut.

PPS Kids, do you remember those "Alligators" from Parson's Bakery? They may have single-handedly been responsible for Gilmore Girl's romance with frosting.

AN OFFER YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO PASS UP.

I had a friend in high school who was absolutely hysterical. He was also brilliant. One day, he was turned around in his seat, talking to me, reading my book--upside down--and talking to me about the book and extracurricular activities he was planning for the week-end. Just then, the teacher, being peeved as teachers so often are, said, "Brent, what did I just say?" I had no idea what the teacher just said. I hardly knew we were in a class at all. I knew Brent was going to get in trouble and I would go down with him. But Brent did know what the teacher was talking about. He repeated the teacher's words back to him, verbatim.

Brent grew up, served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in France--so he could now also talk in French while doing three other things--finished college and got a job in Washington D.C. It figures.

One day I will publish all his mortuary letters I got in the mail--one with a live spider inside--advertising his morbid services. He was a good friend, sending interesting things in the mail to shock and delight me.

Anyway, after high school I lost track of Brent. I have grieved over this countless times. And then one day I got a phone call from another high school friend telling me Brent had died! I am still brokenhearted. Until yesterday when I received an email that I'm sure Brent is behind--he just has to be. Maybe, like Elvis, he is living somewhere, incognito. Maybe in Hermosillo, Mexico. Or maybe he was looking over the shoulder of the author of the email, saying, "Oh, that's a good one." Whether he was or not, this email delighted me and gave me a good laugh. I hope it gives you the same.

Before you read, please do so with lightheartedness. There is no prejudice here, this is meant to be entertaining. No cats, rats or Mexican gentlemen were hurt in the writing of this email. Here it is:


I know you are always interested in looking for opportunities for investment.

I don’t know if you would be interested in this, but I thought I would mention it to you because it could be a real “sleeper” in making a lot of money with very little investment.

A group of us are considering investing in a large cat ranch near Hermosillo, Mexico. It is our purpose to start rather small, with about one million cats. Each cat averages about twelve kittens each year; skins can be sold for about 20 cents for the white ones and up to 40 cents for the black. This will give us 12 million cat skins per year to sell at an average price of around 32 cents, making our revenues about $3,000,000 a year. This really averages out to $10 thousand a day – excluding Sundays and holidays.

A good Mexican cat man can skin about 50 cats per day at a wage of $3.15 a day. It will only take 663 men to operate the ranch so the net profit would be over $8,200 per day.

Now, the cats would be fed on rats exclusively. Rats multiply four times as fast as cats. We would start a rat ranch adjacent to our cat farm. If we start with a million rats, we will have four rats per cat. The rats will be fed on the carcasses of the cats that we skin. This will give each rat a quarter of a cat. You can see by this that this business is a clean operation, self-supporting and really automatic throughout. The cats will eat the rats and the rats will eat the cats and we will get the skins.

Let me know if you are interested; as you can imagine, I am rather particular who I want to get into this, and want the fewest investors possible.

Eventually, it is my hope to cross the cats with snakes, for they will skin themselves twice a year! This will save the labor costs of skinning as well as give us two skins for one cat.

May I hear from you at your earliest opportunity with a certified check to my order.

Very truly yours,

SIX WORDS FOR EIGHTY-EIGHT-YEAR OLD

Friendly, feisty, fabulously beautiful and funny.

IT WAS A DAY FOR HUGS.

Nurse Giggleswitch's Daddy's funeral was today. I have never cried as much or laughed as much in a funeral.

Nurse Giggleswitch and her three siblings all spoke, they are all just like their dad in many ways. Quick witted for sure, and they told stories about their funny dad. He will be missed.


It was a time for hugs. Lots of hugs.


When we got home we watched them pack and get ready to leave. Then there were more hugs all around. They even hugged each other. I told them to so I could take this shot. I'm such a smart mom.

The doggies did not get hugs. Dog breath, you know.

Try not to notice the socks with the shorts on my boy, Lord Bumhampton.

I watched until their car turned the corner and was gone. Just like Mom used to do when we left after being home for a vacation or just for a week-end. She watched until we drove out of sight, wiping her eyes and waving. She did the same for my sister and her family. We were so loved and we knew it.

These kids are loved.


I even loved rubbing my boy's feet, which smell somewhat like Parmesan cheese. That's what parents do, love their kids. No matter what.

Nurse Giggleswitch's daddy loved her very much. He loved all his children. I know it was hard for him to leave them--he died of leukemia--, even though they are all grown up and don't rely on him to take care of them. They do rely on him to be their daddy, the man who they will always talk about and laugh about and sometimes cry over. He is their dad, and like all dad's everywhere he is one of the most important people in their lives. He always will be.

Every kind of dad is important. We come to planet earth with "family" stamped all over us. It's a big responsibility being a dad. But if you are a dad you know it's worth it.

I SHOULDN'T POST THIS

I shouldn't post this because I don't have permission but I'm going to do it anyway. Probably the only people who read this are my friends and a few nice people who's blogs I've read and loved and you wouldn't turn me in. Would you?

I "Googled" Ian Frazier and found a recording of him. Click on the following "RA" (whatever it is) to hear LAMENTATIONS OF A FATHER. (RA) The recording is a bit different than the text. How I love it. Good for a laugh. Good for a whole bunch of laughs. Hahaha. Oh, how funny. You must listen to this and please pray that I'm not going to get into trouble.

Laws Concerning Food and Drink; Household Principles; Lamentations of the Father by Ian Frazier, The Atlantic Monthly; February 1997

Laws When at Table: And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were. Neither raise up your knees, nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me. Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination, and worthy of rebuke. Drink your milk as it is given you, neither use on it any utensils, nor fork, nor knife, nor spoon, for that is not what they are for; if you will dip your blocks in the milk, and lick it off, you will be sent away. When you have drunk, let the empty cup then remain upon the table, and do not bite it upon its edge and by your teeth hold it to your face in order to make noises in it sounding like a duck; for you will be sent away.

When you chew your food, keep your mouth closed until you have swallowed, and do not open it to show your brother or your sister what is within; I say to you, do not so, even if your brother or your sister has done the same to you. Eat your food only; do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips. I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is. And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table, even in pretend, for we do not do that, that is why. And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest, because we do not do that, that is why. Sit just as I have told you, and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me; for if you sit like that, your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.

For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first, if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert. But of the unclean plate, the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat, and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each, or in total six peas, eaten where I can see, and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert. But if you eat a lesser number of peas, and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert; and if you eat the peas, yet leave the potatoes uneaten, you shall not have dessert, no, not even a small portion thereof. And if you try to deceive by moving the potatoes or peas around with a fork, that it may appear you have eaten what you have not, you will fall into iniquity. I will know, and you shall have no dessert.

On Screaming: Do not scream; for it is as if you scream all the time. If you are given a plate on which two foods you do not wish to touch each other are touching each other, your voice rises up even to the ceiling, while you point to the offense with the finger of your right hand; but I say to you, scream not, only remonstrate gently with the server, that the server may correct the fault. Likewise if you receive a portion of fish from which every piece of herbal seasoning has not been scraped off, and the herbal seasoning is loathsome to you, and steeped in vileness, again I say, refrain from screaming. Though the vileness overwhelm you, and cause you a faint unto death, make not that sound from within your throat, neither cover your face, nor press your fingers to your nose. For even now I have made the fish as it should be; behold, I eat of it myself, yet do not die.

Concerning Face and Hands: Cast your countenance upward to the light, and lift your eyes to the hills, that I may more easily wash you off. For the stains are upon you; even to the very back of your head, there is rice thereon. And in the breast pocket of your garment, and upon the tie of your shoe, rice and other fragments are distributed in a manner wonderful to see. Only hold yourself still; hold still, I say. Give each finger in its turn for my examination thereof, and also each thumb. Lo, how iniquitous they appear. What I do is as it must be; and you shall not go hence until I have done.

Various Other Laws, Statutes, and Ordinances: Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time. Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub yourself against cars, nor against any building; nor eat sand.

Leave the cat alone, for what has the cat done, that you should so afflict it with tape? And hum not that humming in your nose as I read, nor stand between the light and the book. Indeed, you will drive me to madness. Nor forget what I said about the tape.

Complaints and Lamentations: O my children, you are disobedient. For when I tell you what you must do, you argue and dispute hotly even to the littlest detail; and when I do not accede, you cry out, and hit and kick. Yes, and even sometimes do you spit, and shout "stupid-head" and other blasphemies, and hit and kick the wall and the molding thereof when you are sent to the corner. And though the law teaches that no one shall be sent to the corner for more minutes than he has years of age, yet I would leave you there all day, so mighty am I in anger. But upon being sent to the corner you ask straightaway, "Can I come out?" and I reply, "No, you may not come out." And again you ask, and again I give the same reply. But when you ask again a third time, then you may come out.