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| Flu Notes |
| Wednesday, 21 May 2008 13:08 | |||
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(Notes pinned to the pillow of a mother who has the flu by a well-meaning husband who has inherited the house and kids.) Monday A.M.: Dearest: Sleep late. Everything under control. Lunches packed. Kids off to school. Menu for dinner planned. Your lunch is on a tray in refrigerator: fruit cup, finger-sandwiches. Thermos of hot tea by bedside. See you around six. Tuesday A.M.: Honey: Sorry about the egg rack in the refrigerator. Hope you got back to sleep. Did the kids tell you about the Coke I put in the Thermoses? The school might call you on this. Dinner may be a little late. I'm doing your door-to-door canvas for liver research. Your lunch is in refrigerator. Hope you like leftover chili. Wednesday A.M.: Dear Doris: Why in the name of all that is sane would you put soap powder in the flour canister! If you have time, could you please come up with a likely spot for Chris's missing shoes? We've checked the clothes hamper, garage, back seat of the car and wood box. Did you know the school has a ruling on bedroom slippers? There's some cold pizza for you on a napkin in the oven drawer. Will be late tonight. Driving eight Girl Scouts to tour meatpacking house. Thursday A.M.: Doris: Don't panic over water in hallway. It crested last night at 9pm. Will finish laundry tonight. Please pencil in answers to following: 1. How do you turn on the garbage disposal? 2. How do you turn off the milkman? 3. Why would that rotten kid leave his shoes in his boots? 4. How do you remove a Confederate flag inked on the palm of a small boy's hand? 5. What do you do with leftovers when they begin to snap at you when you open the door? I don't know what you're having for lunch! Surprise me! Friday A.M.: Hey: Don't drink from pitcher by the sink. Am trying to restore pink dress shirt to original white. Take heart. Tonight, the ironing will be folded, the house cleaned and the dinner on time. I called your mother.
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Comments
This was cute and too true!
Not cute, not true. Oh, I expect to be attacked, but I am a man. I can handle it.
- Michael, It's because you expect to be attacked that you feel attacked by this. It's a joke, man, not a dissertation about all men. I don't think you are handling it well at all.
~Pastor Tim
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