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The Gift of the Email
by Robert Byron
My wife's siblings decided that they all wanted to go in together on a gift for their parents. The conversation was communicated in written form via email. It went pretty much like this:
"Ellie and I were talking this morning about lots of things. One of the things we talked about was a Christmas gift for Mom. She mentioned Mom's subtle hint about the ornaments. An excellent idea, of course. I mentioned that I had found a pendant that had room for a gem stone for all 13 grandchildren. Love, Amy"
"Would love to get a lawn service in place for Dad (even if it is every other month, it could offer some relief). Love the pendant for Mom. I think she would love it! Candice"
"Okay, scroll down to the bottom of Mom's email. Should we all chip in and get Dad the $220 fishing unit???? By the time tax is added in, we are looking at about $40. We are going there this Friday and Saturday (John-John has a football game in Herford on Saturday) -- I could look into getting it then.
What do you think? Love ya, Ellie"
"You can count us in. With love, Candice"
"Sounds awesome. I had the very same thought. It's a perfect Dad gift. Of course, Mom's task is to keep him from buying it himself between now and Christmas. :D ~Amy"
"We are in as well! - Ginger"
"Okay, all the girls are in. How 'bout the boys? Bob and Doug, should we count you guys in for the fishing unit for Dad for Christmas? Love, Ellie"
"Why are you asking Bob and Doug.....have you NOT learned yet!! Who does the shopping? Who makes the decisions? Linda and Celia, how do you y'all feel about the gift for Dad? - Ginger"
"I'm all for following the lead. Bob"
"Whatever works is fine for us.do you think he ever goes fishing? And has that dock, twice repaired now, ever launched a boat? And they moved to the coast because.? - Celia"
"You can count us in for Dad's gift but am I the only one who thinks we shouldn't have been including mom and dad in these emails? - Doug"
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"Education: the path from cocky ignorance to miserable uncertainty." - Mark Twain
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"A Dieter's Christmas"
'Twas the night before Christmas and all around my hips Were Fanny May candies that sneaked past my lips. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.
While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps. When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear: A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer! That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.
The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear; On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS A Weight Watcher dropout form sugar detox.
From the top of the scales to the top of the hall Now dash away pounds now dash away all. Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress My clothes were all bulging from too much excess
My droll little mouth and my round little belly They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly I spoke not a word but went straight to my work Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger beside my heartburn I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry If temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.
And I mumbled again as I turned in for the night In the morning I'll starve... 'till I take that first bite!
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"A Dieter's Christmas"
'Twas the night before Christmas and all around my hips Were Fanny May candies that sneaked past my lips. Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.
While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps. When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter
Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear: A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer! That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.
The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear; On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS A Weight Watcher dropout form sugar detox.
From the top of the scales to the top of the hall Now dash away pounds now dash away all. Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress My clothes were all bulging from too much excess
My droll little mouth and my round little belly They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly I spoke not a word but went straight to my work Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger beside my heartburn I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry If temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.
And I mumbled again as I turned in for the night In the morning I'll starve... 'till I take that first bite!
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A guy walks into a bar with his dog on a leash, and the barman says, "Geez, that's a weird dog: he's stumpy-legged, pink, and doesn't have a tail, but I bet my Rottweiler would beat the heck out of it." Fifty bucks is laid down. Out in the yard, the Rottweiler gets mauled to pieces.
Another drinker says his Pit Bull will win, but the bet is 100 bucks.
Another trip to the yard and, when it's all over, there are bits of Pit Bull Terrier all over the place. The drinker pays up and says, "Say, what breed is that anyway?"
The owner says, "Until I cut his tail off and painted it pink, it was the same breed as every other alligator."
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Longer Days
I was working in a scrap yard in Southern England during summer vacation at
an engineering university. I used to work repairing construction equipment.
One afternoon, I was taking apart a piling hammer that had some very large
bolts holding it together. One of the nuts had corroded on to the bolt; to
free it, I started heating the nut with an oxy-acetylene torch.
As I was doing this, one of the dimmest apprentices I have ever known came
along. He asked me what I was doing. I patiently explained that if I
heated the nut, it would grow larger and release its grip on the bolt so I
could then remove it.
"So things get larger when they get hot, do they?" he asked.
Suddenly, an idea flashed into my mind (I know not from where.)
"Yes," I said, "that's why days are longer in summer and shorter in winter."
There was a long pause, then his face cleared.
"You know, I always wondered about that," he said.
********************************If you cannot convince them, confuse them.