(-:~ThE oFfIcIaL fRiDaY sIlLiNeSs ThReAd~:-)

[Lucky9teen]

1. My Mother taught me about ANTICIPATION...
"Just wait until your father gets home."

2. My Mother taught me about RECEIVING....
"You are going to get it when we get home!"

3. My Mother taught me to MEET A CHALLENGE...
"What were you thinking? Answer me when I talk to you! Don't talk back to me!"

4. My Mother taught me LOGIC...
"If you fall out off that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."

5. My Mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE...
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."

6. My Mother taught me to THINK AHEAD...
"If you don't pass your spelling test, you'll never get a good job."

7. My Mother taught me HUMOR...
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

8. My Mother taught me how to BECOME AN ADULT...
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

9. My Mother taught me about GENETICS...
"You're just like your father."

10. My Mother taught me about my ROOTS...
"Do you think you were born in a barn?"

11. My Mother taught me about WISDOM OF AGE...
"When you get to be my age, you will understand."

And last but not least...

12. My Mother taught me about JUSTICE...
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you....Then you'll see what it's like!"

Things Mom Would Never Say
1. "How on earth can you see the TV sitting so far back?"
2. "Yeah, I used to skip school a lot, too"
3. "Just leave all the lights on ... it makes the house look more cheery"
4. "Let me smell that shirt -- Yeah, it's good for another week"
5. "Go ahead and keep that stray dog, honey. I'll be glad to feed and walk him every day"
6. "Well, if Timmy's mom says it's OK, that's good enough for me."
7. "The curfew is just a general time to shoot for. It's not like I'm running a prison around here."
8. "I don't have a tissue with me ... just use your sleeve"
9. "Don't bother wearing a jacket - the wind-chill is bound to improve"

DIY, but Mom's Way
While assembling furniture, my friend Debbie asked her roommate's five-year-old son to bring her a screwdriver.

"Do you want a 'Daddy' screwdriver or a 'Mommy' screwdriver?" the little boy asked.

Confused but preoccupied, Debbie absentmindedly said, "Bring me a 'Mommy' screwdriver."

The child came back and handed her a butter knife.

Head of the Household
My husband, Jeff, and I incurred several problems while assembling our new computer system, so we called the help desk. The man on the phone started to talk to Jeff in computer jargon, which confused us even more.

"Sir," my husband politely said, "please explain what I should do as if I were a four-year-old."

"Okay," the computer technician replied. "Son, could you please put your mommy on the phone?"

Peace and Quiet
Aunt Karen is the mother of two high-spirited young girls. When I called her one morning, our conversation was constantly interrupted by the din of kids screaming and chasing each other. "Could you hold on for a moment?" my aunt finally asked, putting down the phone.

Within ten seconds all I could hear was absolute silence. Then, "Okay, I'm back."

"But it's so quiet!" I exclaimed. "You must have complete control over those two."

"Not really," my aunt confessed wearily. "I'm in the closet."

Mom's Where
One evening after dinner, my five-year-old son Brian noticed that his mother had gone out. In answer to his questions, I told him, "Mommy is at a Tupperware party."

This explanation satisfied him for only a moment. Puzzled, he asked, "What's a Tupperware party, Dad?"

I've always given my son honest answers, so I figured a simple explanation would be the best approach. "Well, Brian," I said, "at a Tupperware party, a bunch of ladies sit around and sell plastic bowls to each other."

Brian nodded, indicating that he understood this curious pastime. Then he burst into laughter. "Come on, Dad," he said. "What is it really?"


Nap Time Notes

You turn the knob of the front door and push.
The door gives about a foot before meeting resistance. You have to slide in sideways through the opening to enter the family room. It's dark except for the light given off by the television. Credits from some animated classic roll by. Stumbling over a building block castle, you reach the end table and turn on the lamp.

Big mistake.
Now you have a full view of the entire family room. Toys and school clothes cover the floor. An assortment of uncoastered half full pop cans line the coffee table. Sighing, you look around for the remote. Unable to locate it you try a manual shut down of the VCR and TV. The finger you hit the rewind button with is covered in...oh no, peanut butter. You go to the kitchen to get a dish cloth wondering what became of the nutritious, if not delicious, casserole that was supposed to be dinner.

Another big mistake.
The more aptly named mess hall is in worse shape than the family room. The table is topped with U-shaped sandwich crusts and milk ringed cups. Someone obviously tried finger painting with grape jelly on the high chair tray. After clearing the table you try loading the dishwasher only to find a black gooey casserole in the plate rack. Tackling the kitchen in the morning seems like a better plan. You head for the bathroom.

Big mistake number three.
Little blue blobs of bubblegum toothpaste line the sink. The tub is filled with soap scum and toys. Wet washcloths dangle and drip over the shower curtain rod. Disgusted, you leave the bathroom. In the hallway you notice a pale illumination coming from the bedroom. The familiar sounds of fingers on a keyboard and a mouse clicking greet your ears. You step over your husband's shoes and socks.

"Hi Hon. How was your Mom's night out?"
"Fine... What happened here?"
"The usual. Dinner, bath and bed," he reports. "Oh, the casserole got a little burned. I guess I didn't hear the timer go off." He looks up from the monitor. "But, I took care of it. Fed the girls some PB & J...Even put the casserole thingy in the washer."
(Is that pride you see in his face?)
"But, the house..."
"I know, it's a little messy. I started to pick up, but the baby started getting fussy. When I finally got her quiet,
it was bath time..."
('Welcome to my world,' you think.)
"The other two were so keyed up tonight. I don't know what their problem was, but it took forever for them to settle down and go to sleep."
"That'll happen when they have sugar sandwiches for supper."
(Did I say that out loud?)
"Other than that, no problem. I don't know why you make such a big deal about staying home all day with the kids."
Your eyes glaze over. Your fists clench. Your world turns red.
"Hon?...What is it, dear?....Liz?...NOoooooo!!!

[BJClinton]

Oooh, by all means.

[Apple Blossom]

I’m the oldest of 4 kids. My youngest sister and I have often compared notes on how quickly each of us was taken to the doctor.

When I got sick, I saw no less than 2 physicians.
#2 sister went to one doctor at the first sign of symptoms.
#3 brother had a fever for at least 2 days before there was a trip to the doctor.
#4 sister was no longer contagious and getting better before anyone noticed she was even sick!

True story:
Youngest sister (#4) was about 5 or 6 years old when I came accross her in the bathroom trying to put one of those tiny band-aids on a cut she got on her finger when she slammed a metal screen door on her hand. She had washed her hands, so they were wet, and the band-aid wasn’t sticking when big sister (me) came to the rescue. She didn’t want any parental involvement, but when I saw how deep the cut was....long story short, she needed 4 stitches!

We still have a laugh about how the baby of the family either has everything done for them, or they are really good at fending for themselves.

[Ingtar]

I am the fifth of eight. What you say about successive kids seems true.

[fredhead]

Our family doctor when I grew up was a strong believer in the power of pennicilin. In third grade I was afflicted with boils, and had one come up under my nose. The doctor didn't want it to pop, so every day for about three weeks my Dad (who was on night shift) would come get me out of school and take me to the doctor who would inject pennicilin in my butt. I still hate needles.

Another time, when I was older, I cut my toe bad on something (don't know what) while playing in the salt water sound near where I grew up. Dad (former Army medic) cleaned and bandaged it but didn't take me to the hospital until late that night when it started hurting terribly. The resident at the emergency room cleaned it, bandaged it, and gave me a tetanus shot. He couldn't sew it up since we had waited too long. Three days later we went for a follow up with our family doctor. He unwrapped my toe and started cussing like a sailor. He called the hospital (where he was chief of staff) and demanded to know the doctor who f***ed up my toe (his words, in front of me). He was livid. I still have a bump on that toe 40 years later.

BTW, that doctor was the first person to see me in this world, he delivered me. He felt that way about all his “kids.”

[fredhead]

Another Bill Cosby.....

“My wife and I have five children. The reason we have five children is that we don’t want six!! And the ones we have we just want to get them out of the house.”

[Ingtar]

I remember the doctor trips I had as a military dependent. Some of them were amusing in their own right. They decided my growing pains in my chest were a concern one time. Then they hooked me up to an EKG and were ready to send me for surgery for this mild pain. I believe it was my father who asked why the leads were plugged into different colored jacks than the plugs. He practiced the art of calm. (With 8 kids like my siblings, it was easy to understand why.) They decided that it was growing pains and let me go.

[a fool in paradise]

http://www.29-95.com/music/bands-and-artists/earl-gilliam

Earl Gilliam avoided the hospital for 78 years. Two of his brothers died in hospitals within a 24-hour span, and that was all the reason he needed to stay away. When he says “my people live a long time,” Gilliam isn’t kidding; his mother ticked to 102. She instilled in him a distrust of doctors.

He holds up his “trigger finger,” a long, brown, spidery digit that has pounded out blues songs on a keyboard for the better part of seven decades. The tip of the finger is positioned at a permanent right angle, the result of a lawn mower accident when he was a kid. “My mother didn’t believe in doctors,” he says. So she reattached the fingertip, splinted it using spider webs as a wrap and soaked it in vinegar. “That’s just the way it healed,” he says, smiling. “Told you, she didn’t believe in doctors.”

He doesn’t take vitamins but figures he should. He’s never had a headache that wasn’t a hangover and, until recently, smoked fairly regularly.

Then in December, a month before he turned 79, Gilliam had a coughing fit and struggled to breathe. A nephew got him into the car and drove him to a hospital, with Gilliam sticking his head out the window along the way trying to breathe. He’d suffered a partial collapsed lung and ended up in the hospital for several days.

Some things have changed in the months since. Gilliam has stopped smoking and drinking. He’s reluctant to expose himself to a smoke-filled scene, which has temporarily halted the Sunday Doghouse shows that have been a mainstay at his Tomball home for years. But Gilliam has also bounced back with monthly nighttime gigs at the Big Easy that stretch well past midnight, as well as blues brunch performances at Danton’s Gulf Coast Seafood Kitchen...

He says his first proper gig came after Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown heard him play. Gilliam says his powerful left-handed bass lines impressed the blues iconoclast and earned him an invitation to play with Brown at the Eldorado Ballroom; Gilliam was 17. Unlike the late blues great Pete Mayes, Gilliam didn’t tour the world with Brown, because his parents wouldn’t let him.

But within a few years he was gigging with Albert Collins and Ivory Lee Semien. He would also play his own shows at the Hamilton Inn in the Fifth Ward and would meet the city’s other players at Shady’s. “You’d make a gig,” he says, “and end up at Shady’s. That’s what we all did.”

Gilliam is fuzzy on some dates, but the intricacies and eccentricities of the myriad players he’s joined are all stored in his mind. His early tenure with Collins and later work with Joe “Guitar” Hughes seem to be favored eras. Like others, he confesses to being stymied playing with Lightnin’ Hopkins, who’d “just jump off in any key and change when he wants to. He was playing by himself, that’s what it is. And you didn’t say anything to him about it.”

Albert King was his least favorite blues legend to play with. Gilliam said King would browbeat his players on the bandstand, often yelling at the keyboard player to cut down his volume. “Didn’t stay there too long,” Gilliam says. “Don’t like hollering, so I had to go...”

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Now back to the silly

[wyokostur]

[BibChr]

Boy, that left kitty is a pretty mix of colors. And the kitty on the right... say, wait a minute....