At the mall, my five-year-old grandson joined the other children in line waiting to sit on the Easter Bunny’s lap. When it was his turn, Jake didn’t move; he just stared.
“Don’t you want to sit on the
bunny’s lap?” I asked.
“No!” he shouted. “There’s
a man in his mouth!”
C. S., via mail
My sister-in-law was teaching Sunday school class. The topic for the day: Easter Sunday and the
resurrection of Christ.
“What did Jesus do on this day?” she asked. There was no response,
so she gave her students a hint:
“It starts with the letter R.”
One boy blurted, “Recycle!”
Mari-Lynn Finley, Los Angeles, California
To avoid taking down my Christmas lights, I’m turning my house into an Italian restaurant.
Patrick McLellan (@pmclellan)
For Martin Luther King Day,
I asked my fifth graders how they’d make the world a better place. One said, “I’d make potato skins a main dish rather than an appetizer.”
Manalapan, New Jersey
While I was working as a store Santa, a boy asked me for an electric train set. “If you get your train,” I told him, “your dad is going to want to play with it too. Is that all right?”
The boy became very quiet. So, moving the conversation along,
I asked, “What else would you like Santa to bring you?”
He promptly replied, “Another train.”
Mary goes to the post office to buy 50 stamps for her Hanukkah cards. “What denomination?” asks the postal clerk.
Mary thinks a second before
replying, “Give me six Orthodox,
12 Conservative, and 32 Reform.”
I don’t know that there are real ghosts and goblins, but there are always more trick-or-treaters than neighborhood kids.
I dressed my dog up as a cat for Halloween. Now he won’t come when I call him.
Halloween is the beginning of the holiday shopping season. That’s for women. The beginning of the holiday shopping season for men is Christmas Eve.
Why is there so much pressure to spend Independence Day with other people?
A friend knew that she’d overdone it with the gifts and candy last Easter when her six-year-old woke up to all the booty and shouted, “This is the best Christmas ever!”
Chris McDonough, Wilmington, Delaware
It’s New Year’s Eve, and the restaurant is hopping—revelers, band, overworked waiters. Wending his way through the crowd is a drunk, staggering back to his seat. Spotting an attractive woman sitting alone, he says, “Pardon me, miss, did I step on your feet a few minutes ago?”
“Yes,” she says testily, “you did.”
“Good! I knew my table was around here somewhere.”
I wonder if Halloween is the one day of the year Lady Gaga wears sensible slacks.
My parents used to stuff
me with candy when I was a kid. M&M’s, Jujubes, SweeTarts. I don’t think they wanted a child; I think they wanted a piñata.
I’m on the Paleo diet,
except I’m the caveman who discovered Snickers.
I used to love the candy Nerds, but I stopped eating them when I realized that for me, it was basically cannibalism.
“Pretend to be someone you’re
not, and receive candy.” Quick:
People always ask kids the same stupid questions. “What are you supposed to be?”
I’m supposed to be done by now. You wanna move it along with the 3 Musketeers?
When it comes
to candy bars, the term fun-sized
is misleading. There is nothing fun about your candy bar being ⅛ the size of a regular bar. You should call them what they are:
When I trace a turkey, it comes out looking exactly like my hand.