Category Archives: Light-hearted Humor

These blogs are about light-hearted funny stories.

Perseverance: Where There’s a Will; There’s a Way – By Karla

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Nana’s Perseverance

Like most families, we too have many “famous stories” that have been retold over and over. One of these is the time that we took an impromptu spend the night t Nana’s. Mom didn’t have our gowns stuffed in her pocketbook as she normally did, anticipating that Julie and I would beg to spend the night. When the pleading began, Nana held up her finger indicating she had a brilliant plan and headed to the back of the house. Perseverance! Nana was not going to let a little thing like not having pj’s stop us from staying!

In about five minutes she returned and proudly displayed our make-shift pillowcase gowns! Being a young woman during the depression, she knew how to make things work. Perseverance! She worked until she made a way. She cut two arm holes and a neck hole. Wha-la! Two nightgowns. Julie and I wore them so proudly.

Unplanned Surprise

Last Saturday, I drove to Donna’s in Rome. We went to lunch and ran some errands together. Afterwards, we hung out at her house, doing some writing while we sipped our hot tea. Around five, I started dreading the drive home. It’s only an hour, but it was so yucky outside with the cool damp air. Knowing it would be dark when I got home. I halfway joked and said, “I wish I’d just packed a bag; I could have just gone home early enough to get ready for church.”  

We continued talking until the conversation wrapped around to my first cousin Lucie, who also lives in Rome. Before I put much thought into it, I blurted out, I’d love to surprise her by going to church with her in the morning.  

Donna texted her to make sure she would be at church and mentioned that she was thinking about joining her. Lucie seemed excited, saying she would save Donna a seat.

Dilemma

With that confirmation, I happened to look down to realize what I had on! Sweatpants and tennis shoes. Now, I know that the Lord does not care what a person wears to church, but sometimes I do struggle with not dressing too casually. I grew up wearing my Sunday best.

Donna laughed and said, “Well, I don’t think I can offer you shoes or pants to wear, but I might have a T-shirt you can sleep in.” (Her shoes size is a 61/2 versus my 91/2, and I could not button her pants around me if my life depended on it!)

Perseverance and Ideas

“I’ll go to Walmart in the morning to get another shirt, some leggings, and shoot, some underwear too,” I added as I realized I’d need that as well. “Man, I just broke down and bought new undies last week!”

We wrote and talked and wrote and talked until around eleven. I walked into the bathroom and hollered, “Ugh, got an extra toothbrush?”

“Yep!”

“Face wash?”

“You know I don’t use any, but I’ve got soap,” she unwrapped a new bar.

“Shoot, I don’t have my mouth guard. You know how I clench my teeth at night. Ugh!”

“Don’t have one of those.”

“Man, I don’t have my melatonin to help me sleep.”

“Don’t have that either.”

“Your shirt didn’t fit me!” I yelled into her room and got into bed with the one I had worn for the day.

“I’ll get a pillowcase and the scissors!” she burst in laughter.  

Intentional Perseverance Continued

The next morning I woke to realize I did not have my thyroid medicine with me. Donna hollered that the deodorant was under the cabinet. I soon realized I didn’t have my make-up! What was I thinking? With our totally opposite skin tones, I knew I couldn’t wear Donna’s so I added that to the Wal-mart list. However after some convincing from Donna, I used hers anyway.

As we got ready, we thought about giving Lucie a gift. Donna has a book of questions about yourself. You answer them as a gift for your children. We thought she would enjoy this to share with her grandchildren one day.

Showered and dressed, we headed to Walmart to grab the needed things. We discussed how although there have been times in my past when I have changed in the car, I was probably a little too old to change my panties there. I took everything out of my purse and stuffed in my new clothes as Donna pulled into the parking place at Barnes & Noble. She darted to the shelf she knew housed the desired book as I headed for a stall. (Note to self: when changing clothes in a public restroom, use the larger stall, the one that has a changing table. This will allow a place for the extra pair, so they do not need to be draped around your neck.)

We walked in to Friendship Baptist Church, with a smile on our faces, and were greeted with an even bigger one in return.

  • New shirt at Walmart $8.99
  • New pants at Walmart $14.59
  • New pack of panties at Walmart $12.50

The surprised look on the face of someone you love and have persevered to surprise, priceless!

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Pedicures: Little Piggies- by Karla and Donna

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  About once every two months Karla and I meet and treat ourselves to pampering our piggies. As with everything else in our lives, there’s always humor involved.

It all started once when we were in need of  some girl time. So, we invited Lynn, Gail, and Julie (Karla’s sisters) to lunch.  After we ate, someone suggested we get our toes done. Now, those words alone brought a burst of laughter. It was well-known that Gail and Donna had never had a pedicure because they hate feet! Reluctantly, they agreed. One sister, who shall remain nameless, was the first to go. She plopped down into the massage chair to relax. While her feet soaked, she closed her eyes and took it all in until she heard our cackling. All of us in our early 40’s, we were learning that our bodies weren’t what they used to be. The vibrations from the massage chair were causing her arm flab to jiggle like Jell-O in her sleeveless shirt. Though we tried to mask the reason of our giggles, she sat up and loudly announced, “I know y’all are laughing at me and my arm flab!” The five of us were so loud bantering back and forth that other customers began laughing. One even noted that we had to be related and was loving our camaraderie.

Pedicure for Jail

Since getting our toes done is a luxury for us, we have learned that when we do them right before going to the beach it is usually a waste. More than once, one of our toes got messed up while walking in the sand. So, one year, we decided to have them done at a random Wal-Mart before we headed home. Like normal, we sat giggling at dumb things that no one else would find funny. A lady came in and sat down in the chair beside us. She was rather loud; there was no way to miss her conversation. As she talked, we looked at each other trying not to react too much. The more she gabbed, the more we realized she was saying something about jail. We got quieter, but our eyes were doing a lot of talking as it became clear that she was getting a pedicure before she went to jail the next day!

If You Break, You Buy

Walking inside one summer day, we were greeted with, “Pick out your color.” As usual, we began searching for a shade similar to the colors in our non-flashy range. Donna reached for a shade a little darker than her normal. Making sure the bottle was mixed to its true color, she shook it back and forth. To our surprise, it flew out of her hand, burst, and left a plum puddle at her feet!  The owner yelled, “Don’t move!” There she stood with plum pudding dripping down her legs. The man came over with a towel and began wiping her legs, before he commenced to mopping up the mess. Needless to say, she went with the more toned down color and had to throw her polish stained sandals away. A sign now graces the wall of the salon…If you break it, you buy it!

While I Wait

Recently, our wildest pedicure may have happened as we were tried out a new place. It was a bit crowded. We had already selected our colors and were awaiting our turn. A nicely dressed lady, who was probably in her 60’s, strolled in. When she inquired about the wait, she seemed deflated, but cheered herself up with this comment, “Okay then. I guess I’ll just go back to the car and smoke some weed while I wait.” Dumbfounded we stood there with our mouths hanging open!  This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home, her little piggies had marijuana, but our little piggies had none! (and never have!)

 

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Fun: Punch, Jump, and Veggie Soup – Karla

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When you live alone, evenings can be quiet. I come home from work around five-thirty, turn on Netflix to watch an episode of Blue Bloods, while planning an activity for tomorrow’s reading lesson. Some days, I convince myself to eat my dinner while watching a second episode. Man! Even after all these years, Tom Selleck still makes my smile. Shortly afterwards, I take a nice warm bath while reading a little and begin settling down for the night.

Friday Teacher Tired

Then there are other days when I am going non-stop! Recently, I had one of those days. It began with a grocery run on Friday evening. If you are a teacher, you know that the brain doesn’t work very well after a week filled with kiddos, especially after 28 years of teaching.

My list was a mile long, and I did not have any extra time to spare. I could not forget any key ingredient. Three kinds of juice, ginger ale, blue Kool-Aid, and pineapple sherbet for baby shower number one. Rachel had asked me to make some chicken salad for a college study group. Since she was going to be home that weekend, it was the logical time to add that to the list. In addition, I needed the ingredients to make homemade veggie soup for baby shower number two. From there I was off to the baby isles looking for a few last minute gifts.

Then I began gathering some weekly items for myself, but my thoughts drifted back to the veggie soup amounts in my head. I had volunteered to make it in a large cooker. The problem was that I had never made that much soup before, and I really did not know how much the cooker would hold!  So, I stood in the grocery store with my hands full of veggies. This will be enough; no, maybe another pack of green beans. Wait! I need another pack of ground beef. My thoughts debated back and forth until I decided I needed more of everything!

Unpacking the car and sorting all the ingredients into their proper stacks, I dropped the chicken into the crock pot and dropped myself into the bed, exhausted.

Up and Running

The next morning I rose at 7:15 and headed straight for the kitchen. Taking the chicken out of the crock pot, I shredded and jazzed it up with chopped nuts, celery salt, sliced grapes, and cream cheese. Then I divided the proportions into their proper containers, so that my oldest daughter Lindsey could have some for her lunch that week also.

Speaking of Lindsey, she had asked if Rachel and I could go to her house to hang out before the second shower began. Having both my girls in one place is not so common at their ages, so I had jumped at the opportunity. Of course, I had not thought through all the items that would need to be packed and taken to her house. I cut up two onions and browned the five pounds of beef that I finally decided on purchasing. Then I started putting all the veggies, beef and chicken broths, and meat into a large cooler. I gathered up all the punch ingredients, packed a quick bag with a change of clothes and headed out the door.

Punch and Soup

Getting to the church, I found my friend Deborah (who is the great-grandmother of the new babies), unloaded all the punch stuff and began making both bowls, one for the girl and one for the boy.  If I do say so myself, the little yellow ducky was cute floating around in the blue punch. I gave the new mom a quick hug and her present and apologized for not getting to stay.

Around two standing in Lindsey’s kitchen, I began sauteing the celery and dumping item after item into the cooker.  The contains grew and grew as I kept dumping it into the cooker until there was no more room. Ugh, I think I over bought a bit! Rachel carried the 17 quarts of veggie soup to the car while I changed clothes, and we left the other five quarts on the stove simmering.

The second baby shower was a celebration for one of our dearest friends who became a mom through God’s timing and miracle of adoption. What a blessing to be a part!

Geronimo!

Smack-dab in the middle of this busy day, was a little jump! Lindsey had raised money for The Green House in Dalton which offers counseling for children and adult victims of sexual assault. If you raised $1,000, you would find yourself rappelling down the side of a five-story building in downtown Dalton. She had never rappelled. This adventure was tucked into my college day memories, where I thought it would have stayed. But, a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do, even when she is 51!

What a day!  What a wonderfully action-filled day: Helping a friend with a granddaughter’s baby shower, having a part in the celebration of a miracle adoption, climbing down the side of a building, and enjoying an ice cream with two of the sweetest daughters a mom could ever have!  

     And guess what else! I have plenty of veggie soup in the freezer for a cold day.  Life is good.  

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Left-Handed: Slice and Dice -By Karla

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Left-Handed Meat Cutting

When I was eight, Dr. and Mrs. Lee were good friends with mom and dad. One Sunday, Mrs. Lee asked me to go home with her after church. They had a missionary family staying with them and this would give the daughter someone to play with. Mom said yes, but promptly gave me the “Karla, you’d better be on your best behavior” speech.  I remembered to put my napkin in my lap when I sat down at the table. But, I was not prepared for the pork chop that adorned my plate, and I knew I was in trouble! Ugh! Being left-handed.

I had NO idea how to cut meat! In fact, I had little abilities to cut much of anything at that time of life – including paper! Those stinkin’ left-handed elementary scissors with the green rubber molded grippers! My fingers got twisted and stuck in there.

I sat at the table staring at it. Mrs. Lee must have noticed and asked if I liked pork chops. I remembered to say yes ma’am, using the manners I was taught. Then I went back to eating all around it. Finally, she leaned toward me and whispered, “Would you like me to cut your meat for you?”

To say I was grateful was an understatement! As I think back on my meat-eating days at home, I can share with little doubt that I bet Mom cut my meat until I left for college! I think watching me holding any kind knife is always scared the right-handers of my family.

Left-Handed Watermelon Cutting

My cutting stories have accumulated over the years. In my late twenties I was in Oregon for a wedding. When I arrived, most family was in town bustling around for the ceremony that was to occur the next day.  My aunt’s friend, who I had never met, was there preparing food for the rehearsal dinner. Attempting to be the southern lady that was instilled in me, I timidly walked into the kitchen and offered to help, because manners should always trumps shyness. I guess I did NOT think that one through because it NEVER occurred to me that someone would ask me to cut!

Apparently glad that someone had offered, the lady politely turned around with the biggest watermelon I had ever seen. I grew up in Granddaddy’s eight-acre garden where watermelons grew regularly. So, I had seen my share of large melons–This one was BIG!

She smiled and said, “Sure!  Will you cut this into little chunks?”

I went into panic!  But, there was no way I was going to tell her I couldn’t nor that I did not want to. That would have been impolite! So, I commenced as Nana would have said. I had to get towel after towel because there was juice running all down the cabinet into the floor. I butchered that watermelon, and it took me two and a half hours to chunk that bad boy! There is no telling what that lady thought as she was watching me, but I can venture to think it might have been something on these lines: Good grief, you left-handed girl! You’re going to cut your fingers off as you are slaughtering that melon and causing a sticky flood in here!

Left-Handed Wedding Cake Cutting

I’d like to say that is the end of the slicing and dicing stories, but that would be a lie. At Donna’s parents’ 40th wedding anniversary, somehow Donna and I ended up behind the cake!  Just so you know, Donna is a lefty too, and she cuts about as good as I do! We started giggling simply at the thought of slicing and serving the cake. It was as if we were teenagers back at her house. The more we tried to stop our snickering, the worse it got.

Neither one of us could get up the courage to start dividing up the cake into sections. Instead, we kept trying to convince the other one that she could do it better. Then we’d laugh some more. Finally, her daddy came trotting over, smiled, and scolded us for not getting on with the task. “Gals, get to cuttin’, these people done drove a long way for cake.” With that, we straighten up, and the slaying began.

Left-Handed Potato Peeling

A couple of months ago, I was preparing dinner for the ladies’ small group that meets at my house weekly. Peeling potatoes with this handy-dandy, peel-o-matic thing I brought from a kid’s school fundraiser, I hulled a hunk right out of my pointer finger. It did not quit bleeding for three hours! Sadly, I loaded my bloody finger and my embarrassed pride into the car and headed for the ER.

Now, I share all the above to say I wish Mom could have seen me serve the wedding cake last Sunday for my sweet friend’s daughter. I sliced the moist pieces like a pro!

   

Disclaimer:  Okay, well…
  1. I was thankful it was dimly lit in the beautifully decorated room where the cakes were displayed.
  2. I was equally thankful there was a trashcan nearby so I was able to scoot up to the table when no one was looking and rake all the loose chocolate crumbs into it!

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Friendship: Thank You for Being a Friend – By Karla

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Summer Exchange Program

During the summers of my teenage years, I spent a week at Donna’s house, and she spent a week at mine. We commonly refer to these moments as our summer exchange program. Oh, the stories we can tell of those adventures, and the friendship that began.

One of our favorite things was the moments when we gained some independence. Donna’s mom Nikki decided it was okay for us to go by ourselves to Shannon Mall near their home in Fayetteville, Georgia. Dennis, her brother, would drop us off, and our freedom began! At least we thought; years later we found out he spied on our friendship like big brothers do.  

People Watching

With little money, we rarely bought anything but an ice cream. Those were some fun times sitting on the benches analyzing people’s hairstyles, outfits, or actions. I would like to say we were not being judgmental, but by definition, we probably were.

Donna usually used her “soft voice” laugh ,while I have a rambunctious chuckle. No wonder I usually got called down more often. At some point, we would decided covering our mouths with a piece of paper or napkin if possible would be a secret way of talking about others. If we did not have either of those items, we began to whisper talk out of the side of our mouths, which became a trademark for us. Yep, we still do it sometimes. Honestly though, maybe it was not as judgmental as it sounds. I believe we were two young, innocent girls trying to figure out the world around us; honestly, we were a little shocked at times!

As I licked my chocolate cake cone and Donna her butter-pecan sugar cone, one of us would mouth, “Look, coming from the left. Hair. Slowly turn your head.” The other would try to nonchalantly swirl her head in that direction. Then we would both try to keep ourselves from bursting out in laughter. It was almost like a game to see who could find the most outlandish situation. We sat there analyzing mohawks, puffy sleeves, big hair teased into a mountain, Madonna look-a-likes, shorts, leg warmers, or turquoise triangle earrings. Then our game would progress to new heights when we would share a crazy comparison. Again with the lips glued on one side and spewing in whispers on the other, “Look, here come Mr. Jefferson struttin’ by us. I think he just stole Mr. T’s gold chains!”

Figuring It Out, Together

Donna and I often still find ourselves trying to critique others, but somewhere over the years, our analyzing has moved more from fashion to the behaviors of others. Life is filled with moments that leaves a person pondering. So, now we mostly help each other sort out the motives of others, whose behavior is not acceptable or who have done hurtful things.

We have all had strangers, coworkers, and even family members, who do things that did not seem to make any sense. We are left, trying to process the situation. Donna and I call each other and discuss it, shake our heads, laugh about it, and sort it out as to why in the world the person would have chosen the words or actions they did. Sometimes these situations have been a brief moment in time. However, other incidents have taken weeks, months, or even years to walk through. For decades, we have relied on the other to navigate life.

We all Need Someone

Everyone needs a Donna friendship in their life. 

  • A Christian friend who will listen to you say anything, knowing sometimes you just need to get it off your chest or out of your mind
  • That true confidant, who will interrupt you when needed and gently guide you back on course
  • The buddy, who helps me see the other side of the coin, even when you don’t want to 
  • A honest companion, who will teasingly call you a “pompous-butt princess” when you are acting too uppity

Donna, thanks for listening to my woes over the year, and thanks for helping me figure out how to handle many, many situations over the years. In fact, thanks for taking me to Waffle House to eat raisin toast for the first time. And thanks for bringing me back to my youth, talking out of the corners of our mouths about the man in the purple jacket. Thank you for being a friend!

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Waffle House Run: Pompous Princess -by Donna

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A few Sundays ago, Karla and I went to my daddy’s. We stayed much longer than we anticipated and were driving back late. It was approximately 10:53 and we had seven minutes to make it to our favorite snack destination…Baskin Robbins. We sped up 75 north to beat the clock, but sadly, we arrived at 11:00. No pralines and crème for me. Karla insisted we needed a late-night snack and I agreed. However, we didn’t want fast food. My reply was, “Well, your choices are limited. It’s pretty much IHOP or Waffle House.”

IHop

Of course, she immediately asked Siri where the nearest IHOP was, and we headed in that direction. “I don’t do Waffle House.” She said with a snarl.  Now I’ve eaten at Waffle House probably a kazillion times. Many late-night basketball games took my family there. “Karla, they make some great hot chocolate.”  I secretly was hoping for Waffle House but knew we would not go there.

We walked into IHOP and sat in the waiting area. A couple sat across from us and said, “I hope y’all don’t mind waiting. The other people, who were sitting with us, just left. We have been here for a while.” We glanced around. There weren’t many customers; we saw no waitresses. But Karla said, “We will wait.” So, we sat and sat. The man across from us pulled out his phone and asked Siri the phone number to IHOP. He grinned as his cell called. The phone sitting on the counter beside us preceded to ring, and ring and ring and ring. We looked at each other with tired eyes, got up, and left.

Waffle House

Back on the interstate, we saw a Waffle House sign. “Just go there!” she said.

“No, we can keep driving and look for another IHOP,,” I said. But as she googled we realized not all IHOPs stay open twenty-four hours. Her stomach could take no more, and we pulled into a Waffle House.

Walking in, we plopped down in the first booth. Karla glanced around apprehensively. Looking across at me she sighed with aversion. Our waitress came and greeted us laying the menus on the table. As she walked off Karla pointed at hers. A long black hair graced the front!

Rolling my eyes, I commented, “Just reach over there, and get another one.”

She put that one back, picked a different one, and grimaced, “It’s sticky.”

I stared her in the eyes and said, “Stop being a pompous-butt-princess!” After a moment of silence from shock, she burst out laughing. Then we began the giggling that always happens when we are exhausted.

Hot Toddy?

Our waitress asked what we would like to drink. I ordered hot chocolate. She returned quickly with our beverages, sat them down, and walked off. I looked at my cup of hot tea. “Didn’t I ask for hot chocolate?”

“Yes, you did. Send it back,” Karla motioned.

“No, I’ll just drink it.” But I really wanted my hot chocolate. The tea was so blah. So, when she came back I politely said, “I ordered hot chocolate.”

She replied, “That’s what I fixed you.” I looked confused and she continued, “You ordered a hot toddy and that’s what I gave you. It has tea, lemon…”

“A hot toddy!” I interrupted. “Doesn’t that have alcohol in it? You put alcohol in my tea?”

“No, I left that out.”

“I said hot chocolate, not a hot toddy.”

“Ok, I’ll bring you a hot chocolate too.”

“Karla, turn around.” I whisper yelled out of the side of my mouth.

In walked a very strangely dressed couple. The girl was dressed like a provocative cheerleader complete with fish-net  hose. The guy had on a purple satin jacket and no shirt! As they stood talking, he slid his jacket down resting it on his forearms, exposing his upper body. It was then we could see the gold sequin vest. He stood like that the entire time he talked as if that was his norm.

Hot Chocolate to Go?

We tried not to get tickled but, we did. As we sat their laughing, a different waitress came over, sat a Styrofoam cup in front of me, and said, “Here’s your hot chocolate to go.” I didn’t order it to go. I looked  confused and she asked, “Is it too early?” and she walked away

When she walked off, we shook our heads.  Karla laughed, “This whole dinner was a little bizarre! I told you I don’t do Waffle House.”

Over the fifty years we’ve known each other, we’ve never eaten at a Waffle House together. And I’m guessing it’ll be another fifty before I get her to go back with me. However, she did admit she liked the raisin toast and apple butter!

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Stepping Out of Your Comfort Zone -By Karla

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An Opportunity

 A couple of months ago, my sister Gail asked Donna and I if we wanted to help at an accounting conference she works  during summer months, when we are out of school. Gail has worked the conferences many years, and I knew she put in many hours each day. Honestly, I didn’t know much about what I would be asked to do, but I thought it sounded like a good opportunity to make a little extra money. Lindsey, my oldest daughter who is also a teacher, decided to go as well. With the four of us there, even with all the hard work, I knew we would have fun.

Work, Work, Work

Gail had never stretched the truth about the conference; there was much work to be done. In fact, in five and a half days, we worked 73.5 hours! Now, I am not afraid of hard work, but I do like my sleep. And I did not get enough of it! I think I may have walked the distance to New York and back during the days! God love those patient people! I must have said, “I’m not sure of the answer to that. Hold just a moment, and I will try to find out for you.” I smiled each and every time someone walked to the counter, but inside was thinking, Lord, please let me know that answer to this question.

May I Help the Next Person In Line?

The employer and attendees were wonderful. In the world of teaching, the help I give often yields slow results. Here I received much satisfaction with quickly solving questions. “How do I check-in?” “Where could I find…?” “Will there be a place to check my luggage on Wednesday after I check out of the hotel?” Ninety-five percent of the inquiries ended with a smile on their faces and much gratitude for our help.

Not In Kansas Anymore

Another duty I had was room monitoring. I laughed when I first heard this term because I knew it must have a different meaning than it does in the teaching world. As an education term, room monitoring is used for the adult who makes sure all kids stay in their own rooms on an overnight field trip! My job at the conference was to assist the instructors by contacting someone to help when they had a problem. In addition, I was to hold up my hands giving them a “ten minutes left” signal. Room monitoring required me to walk up to a stranger to initiate a conversation. This skill is a stretch for me; I have a difficult time with my confidence. But after the first few deep breaths and meeting a few instructors, I starting feeling more at ease.

Who Me?

On the third morning of the conference, a lady hobbled over to the counter in a panic. Her eyes were filled with tears. The lady was in much pain after having half pulled off her toenail and cutting her big toe profusely. Several people, including Gail, were helping her as I went on to my monitoring duties. About ten minutes later, Donna came down the hall and said she was about to throw me under the bus. She was asked to take the lady to the nearest urgent care.  Donna’s reply was, “I’m not your best choice. Let me get Karla.” (Donna has many stories as to her lightheadedness that occurs to blood and needles.)

Without thinking, I briskly walked to the front desk, got my keys, and with very brief instructions, headed to get my car.  Upon cranking, it hit me. I cannot navigate myself around in downtown Atlanta! Donna and I both should have gone.  For me to navigate and her to drive. Gracious, this reminds me of the time we tried to look for Doctor’s Hospital Focus, Karla, Focus!  Round and around I spun trying to find my way out of the parking garage. I was struggling with this simple task and I was about to pilot myself on the one-way, construction-filled streets.

Taking Chances

Guessing, I turned right and was thankful when I saw a reassuring sign that I was headed in the right direction to pick up the injured lady and her friend. Hobbling from the wheelchair into my car, we were off. The friend steered me with the right directions while the lady tried to keep some composure. As she was holding back her tears, I thought that I needed to say a prayer for her. Then I wondered if I should ask if I to pray with her.

I do not believe I had offered to pray with many strangers before, but it seemed to come out before I could think. She did not seem to know what to say and stumbled on a few words, but gave me permission. I smiled and shared that I promised to keep my eyes open while I prayed, trying to lighten the moment. I asked God to comfort her and give her a care team that would be knowledgeable and caring. When I finished her friend asked if she knew what the word Amen meant. I smiled as my backseat driver explained. The injured lady begin to calm down a little. I hoped that in my taking another chance, I had planted a seed to help someone desire to know more about Jesus.

The lady’s co-worker and I sat for four hours in the urgent care. While there, I was able to encourage her with situations with her children.

After I dropped both ladies off at their hotel, I realized I would then be left alone to find my way back. Honestly, I surprised myself!  I cannot say that I didn’t make a wrong turn (or did a short reverse on a four lane road), but I can say I did it!

Yep, I took several chances over the last week, worked in an venue very new to me, and made some new friends. In fact, I even took a chance on the pay; I am not totally sure how much I will make!

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Humor: Who Does This?–Written by the Fly on the wall

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Who Does This? –written by the fly on the wall

Over the years, I have been on the wall of houses, churches, dorms, restaurants, hotels, and stores. But, one of the most entertaining spots to watch these two is from the dashboard of a car. And it was no different three weeks ago:

While teaching kindergarten all week, Donna struggled with the spring crud, was on Prednisone, and had not slept well for days. Her daughter Emily’s play lasted much longer than expected. She didn’t get in bed until 1:00, and she woke at 4:30am!

Meanwhile in Dalton, Karla taught all week and kept three kids under the age of six at night, sleeping on the couch with a four-year-old at times.

Glenn Burns had predicted a torrential downpour for the Saturday Travis, Donna’s son, was to move home from college. Donna texted Karla to mention she would be driving to West Virginia and back in one day because Travis’ stuff would get soaked in the bed of his truck. Of course, she was up for the ride.

Early Morning

“Want to take my car, better gas mileage, and we can use the dual air so you won’t freeze and I won’t fry?”  Not a good idea, Ladies!

Arriving at Karla’s destination, Donna grabbed her meds, and as usual headed to the driver’s seat of Karla’s car, readjusted the seat, and the mirror as Karla began hauling out the three car seats.  Think about what you are doing!

Donna announced, “Don’t ask me how much sleep I got last night.”

Karla replied, “Don’t ask me either.”  Oh, this is gonna be bad. I’ve seen them with little sleep. The silliness will be kicking in extra early.

A Slow Start

Only twenty minutes into the trip, Karla’s stomach growled. With chicken minis and a large iced tea, they plopped into the seat and started down the road once more. The lid was not securely fastened and Karla turned it up to drink. “Ahhh! Half this large tea just poured in my lap and ran down between my legs!” Well, this will prove to be a sticky situation for fourteen hours.

Noticing the gas light was in the red, they stopped. As Donna pumped, Karla went to the outside bathroom. “When you go into that bathroom, take your phone, and take a picture of that sign on the door!” Karla laughed.

After Donna relieved herself, she came out smiling, “Really, who’s gonna get hit by a car when you step out of the bathroom!” Then Karla sprawled out against the car pretending to be the stick figure getting smashed on the metal sign. Seriously, Karla, do you realize people see you draped across the hood of the car!

“We are crazy; we should have taken your car!  Do you realize when we get to Dalton, we will have to switch all Travis’ stuff from my car to yours!” I tried to tell you to think about this; I hope it’s not still raining when you transfer it tonight.

Entertainment

Around Knoxville, the car radio went silent! This will not be good; they cannot survive without songs for karaoke.

“Oh my, gosh!  How are we going to travel a 14-hour trip without music!”

“Plug in my phone and pick something.” Karla started scrolling through Donna’s Pandora saved stations: Conway Twitty, Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, Johnny Horton, Frank Sinatra, Anne Murray, Contemporary Christian, Blue Grass, Hall-n-Oats…“ Who has this variety?

“Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang it is.” And they immediately broke into chorus, “Oh, you pretty Chitty, Bang, Bang.” I’ve been listening to them sing this for years. I remember them forcing their college friends to watch the movie.

“Here comes the long tunnel through the mountain!  Let’s see if we can hold our breath the whole way. Ready, Set, Go!” They look like chipmunks storing food in their cheeks. And they will do it three more times. This will be the only quite time I get.

“Need a pit stop!”  As Karla entered the stall, she had to peel her jeggings off the back of her legs that had been glued from the sugary tea. That’s got to hurt, and that’s just gross!

West Virginia

Arriving in the school parking lot, they had to wait for Travis to finish with his room inspection. Karla asked, “Do you care if I take a quick nap. I can’t keep my eyes open.” This doesn’t ever happen when they are together.  She is really tired.

“Sure, I don’t need your continuous chatter; the radio’s working again.” Donna sneered in her sarcastic way. So, while Karla passed out for about 15 minutes, Donna amused herself by watching and listening to a male student attempting to stuff the rest of his dorm room overflow into his car. When it was obvious to him this endeavor would fail, he became the local auctioneer. “Ten dollars, just ten dollars for this chair! It won’t fit; need to sale!” He continued to beg his fellow dormsmen as they walked by. “Super comfortable. It’s a great chair!” I know Donna, she is wondering if she has a ten and where she can use that chair! Finally, a dude with a spare dollar or two was the new owner of a well-used chair.

Georgia Bound

With Travis’ truck and the car loaded, they were off leading the way. Upon leaving the school they accidentally went the wrong direction. That is the story of their lives! Travis, even knowing they were in the wrong, followed without question. They realized quickly and turned southbound heading for home.    

The radio continued to provide background music for their giggles for about 50 miles. Until a thudding sound, and it was out again. At some point soon, they will start looking up random people on the internet. Last time it was Michael Landon from Little House on the Prairie!

Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

When another song from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang began playing, they both simultaneously chimed in, “You’re my little Chu-chi face; my coo-chi, coo-chi, woo-chi little chu-chi face…”  Who else knows all the words to this song? After the song was sung with the upmost dramatics, the singing turned into questions as they searched the internet for the characters from the movie. I knew that was coming.  With no need to investigate Dick Van Dyke, they turned to Jemima and Jeremy Potts finding that she lives in an eco-village in the UK while he resides in England working as the Head of Production for a prestigious acting school.

The music to the doll song from Chitty, Chitty came out of the speakers. Oh, no. Donna began stiffly moving her arms and singing “turning around like a music box that’s wound by a key,” and Karla began flailing her arms like a rag-time doll while singing, “Truly Scrumptious.”  For the next five minutes, they continued to act out the scene of Truly Scrumptious and Caractacus Potts the best a driver and rider could. Hands on the wheel please. And you ladies look absolutely ridiculous to the people passing by! Who does that?

“Do you know who played the toy maker?  Benny Hill,” Karla spouted out before even waiting for an answer!  “Did you know this year is the 50th anniversary of the movie!”  Now they are going to want to celebrate this milestone in the near future; movie night with popcorn and Goobers!

“Ooh!  Look up the evil child catcher!” And they found him to have been a very famous Austrian ballet dancer, whose agile movements actually came-in-handy during a near death experience as his child-jail-carriage spun out of control.  There were a few disturbing rumors about him as well.

Evening

As the day moved into evening, they continued their profound researching to discover that Conway Twitty has a son, Michael Twitty who performs concerts and sings his songs.  “And wouldn’t it be fun to take Aunt Anna to see him!” Then they commenced to find a concert for a cousin/aunt trip in the near future. And now they will start singing, “Hello Darlin’.” Yep, I told you.

Needing a bathroom as all 50-year-old ladies do, they took an exit for a potty break, gas fill-up, and food fill-up.  Travis chose McDonald’s, so they ordered oatmeal! Oatmeal from McDonalds’ at this hour?

As they gobbled oats, a man wearing a Cracker Barrel uniform came in, ordered and began to eat. With Cracker Barrel being their favorite restaurant, they looked at each other, whispering loudly. “What is he thinking! You work there, and you eat here! He is insane! Look the TV is playing the old Lawrence Welk show!”  They got up, went to stand, and watch the TV on the wall. People are staring. Poor Travis.

As they arrived back where Donna’s car was waiting, although exhausted, they had to swap all the stuff from one car to another in the rain. I told you so!

“I’ve watched these two for many years, and this is the normal for them. This was actually a mild trip. Perhaps, many people would think they were strange, and say “Who does that?”  My answer is, “two cousins, who enjoy life, and I am glad I was along for the ride!”

For your enjoyment,click on the link to hear Doll on a Music Box! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BbX3ZSr43KA

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Friendship -By Donna

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Friendship is a gift from God. But what makes the best kind of friend? One that will get the dried lipstick off your teeth! Another characteristic is that a great friend is fun.  Karla and I have had enough fun to last a lifetime! We can have fun anywhere and anytime. Standing in line at a deli one day we were trying to decide what we could eat. We told the young man behind us to go around us. His reply, “Oh no, I am enjoying the show!”

A friend should be loyal, caring, and honest. More importantly friendship is the opportunity to love and serve others rather than having others love and serve you. To have good friends, you must be a good friend.

Above the Call of Duty

Karla and I are often doing for one another. We don’t keep tabs, or pay each other back, because “it all comes out in the wash” as our mothers would say. Recently, Karla went above and beyond the call of duty for me. I needed Travis, my oldest son, who is away at college, to make an important phone call, but he was in class. I was going to call and see if they would take the information from me, but I was sure they wouldn’t since he is over 18. So, Karla volunteered.

Impersonating

The plan was for me to call, and if they asked to speak to Travis, she was going to impersonate him. I told her to talk like a young guy, not real formal. I wrote all the needed information on a paper for her to have handy. We sat in the quiet car, and I dialed the number. As I suspected, when I told her his birth date, she asked to speak to him. I handed it to Karla, and  put it on speaker phone. She changed to her most manly voice, and the conversation went something like this:

Karla: “Yea.”   

Lady:  “Yea! What are you saying yea for, I haven’t even asked you a question yet.”

Karla: “Sorry.”

Lady:  “What is your name?”

Karla: “Travis Tumlin”        

Lady:  “Spell that.”

Karla:  “Tumin.” (I whispered to Karla, “you spelled it wrong! It’s T-u-m-l-i-n)  

Lady:  “Ma’am!  Are you spelling your son’s name for him? Is your mom spelling your name for you?”

Karla:  “Sorry Ma’am, I got a little confused. I haven’t been feeling so good lately.”

The conversation went on and the lady who seemed very upset with Travis to begin with became sympathetic. (I think she thought he was not the brightest crayon in the box!) One of the last things she said to him was an email address and she added, “It’s www., now honey that’s three w’s in a row.  And good luck now.”

That was one of the funniest moments we have ever had. Friendship often goes to great lengths.

Being a good friend is just as important as having a good friend. Make a choice to be a good friend to someone today.  

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Simplicity: Kazoo Moments -By Karla

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Tonight I sat at an elementary school watching a group of first graders sing about love and presidents, all the biggies of February. (We teachers try not to leave out anyone or anything.) So, they began with a song about how George Washington really didn’t wear a wig; he just powdered his hair. Ending with a ditty about what it means to be a good friend. 

Transported Back in Time

It took almost no time to whisk my mind back to when my two now-grown children were on a stage in elementary school. Memories flooded my mind. Lindsey singing a little solo, and Rachel’s big shout about guacamole. She had a horrid raspy voice. Even though she had a horribly hoarse voice—the show had to go on! I grinned at the thought of my lugging around the huge camcorder in my jumper dress. The three of us were so proud of their success.

A Simple View Point

The look on the kids’ faces tonight reminded me of how simple life is from their perspective at times. Joy oozed from their smiles when they pulled out kazoos and began tooting a tune!

I was there with my family-friends, whose children call me Nana. Although we had already made a potty trip immediately before the program started, my sweet four-year-old Rylynn needed to go again around the third song. What fun she was having being at her big brother’s school. She washed her hands from the water that sprayed out of the trough-like sink, adding even more excitement of the evening.

As we dodged the parents filming children through a phone, who would have ever thought that 25 years ago, I watched my Colby. Surely, every other child on that stage was as cute to someone as he was to me. My eyes stayed glued to him, watching his little arms shoot up and down not missing a beat. He seemed so proud of himself.

Heading Home with a Smile

On the way out of the school, I got a big hug from him saying thank you for coming. Then he pulled out his kazoo as if to give me a private concert. Laughingly, I joked with his parents about how that kazoo might get lost sometime soon. In the rain, I got to buckle Rylynn in her car seat because she begged for “Nana to do it”. During that moment, I heard her precious 16 month sister’s eyes light up saying Nana.

Walking to my car I thought, “God is so good; what a fun night to be me!”

 

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