This funny video came to me as an e-mail forward from a great friend.
Valerie Ader is old enough to be my mother
so naturally she is really good at e-mail forwards.
I miss you Valerie. I need a walking partner. Move to Utah.
Anyway, it’s good for a laugh and some inspiration simultaneously.
I am sure you are going to love it.
And thanks Val.
You always come through for me when I don’t feel like writing!
Enjoy a humorous explanation of your life.
A friend e-mailed me this story and I thought it would be a good share.
Especially after such a non-funny week.
On the first day, God created the dog and said, “Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.
“The dog said, “That’s a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I’ll give you back the other ten?”
So God saw it was good.
On the second day, God created the monkey and said, “Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I’ll give you a twenty-year life span.”
The monkey said, “Monkey tricks for twenty years? That’s a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the dog did?”
And God, again saw it was good.
On the third day, God created the cow and said, “You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer’s family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.”
The cow said, “That’s kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I’ll give back the other forty?”
And God agreed it was good.
On the fourth day, God created humans and said, “Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this, I’ll give you twenty years.”
But the human said, “Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?”
“Okay,” said God, “You asked for it.”
So that is why for our first twenty years, we eat, sleep, play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years, we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years, we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years, we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone.
Life has now been explained to you.
There is no need to thank me for this valuable information. I’m doing it as a public service. If you need me I’ll be on the front porch.
The other day we were getting lunch ready
and I told Sophia to go ahead
and cut herself some cheese
from the big block of Cheddar.
(You already know where I am going with this, don’t you?)
Sophia is trying with all her strength.
She declares,
“I can’t cut the cheese.”
I respond with a chuckle,
“You can’t cut the cheese?”
Originally Sophia doesn’t get my joke.
“No. Mom, it’s too hard.”
Me: “It’s too hard to cut cheese?
We better tell dad about this.”
The mention of her dad
is a dead boy joke giveaway.
“MMoooommm. Gross.”
I wish she couldn’t cut the cheese.
I really do.
I wish even more
that her dad couldn’t cut the cheese either.
Here is some more fun boy type entertainment.
This top video is the bomb.
LG wants to recreate it using nerf guns.
Right after he makes a hilarious video about cutting cheese.
So, on Saturday night at 10 pm, LG and I were walking out of the temple.
Yes, this temple. How amazing is that?
From our view up on the hill, there were fireworks going off all over the valley. It was absolutely breathtaking.
LG informed me that The Stadium of Fire would be happening any moment. For some reason, in my mind, I thought that it was going to happen on the actual 4th.
I decided we should hurry home and find a spot to watch the fireworks.
To my dismay, when we got home, the kids had no interest whatsoever in breaking away from the TV.
I pried their bodies and eyes from the tube, and made them pile in the car. I was not about to miss the fireworks, especially after this post.
As we drove down State street (Utah Valley’s version of Knoxville’s Kingston Pike) I was overwhelmed by so many US flags lit up along the road. The patriotism of Utahns is not only efficacious but admirable. People either love America here or they display their stars and stripes to compete with all the other businesses. And by all, I mean ALL. Everyone has a flag. Everyone.
The kids were grumbling during the whole drive.
Why do we have to do this?
We don’t want to watch the fireworks.
Let’s just go back home.
wah wah wah.
I told them to keep their eyes on the flags and to sing along.
I started loud and strong:
This land is your land, this land is my land….nothing but my voice.
Oh beautiful, for spacious skies….again, nothing from the back seats.
She’s a grand old flag, she’s a high flying flag….”Shut up, mom.”
God bless America….”Really, Alice, do you have to sing so loud?” said quietly by LG so the kids wouldn’t hear; I’m assuming he didn’t want to totally stomp on my love for country.
I’m proud to be an American….(even louder than before)
By this time the kids were all horrified and hating their mother and her motherland.
And guess what? By the time we got to Provo’s end of State from our northern end of Orem’s State, all we could see was traffic. The traffic was heading towards us, not with us.
Yes, I hate to tell you, Murphy’s Law is still in full effect, and has no respect for a nation’s holiday celebrated two days early or a very loud and song singing patriotic mother. We had missed the fireworks.
More grumbling, complaining, and whining ensued.
LG and I were not about to miss a good opportunity for teaching our kids.
Me: “Knock it off you guys, at least we still live in a country that has firework celebrations.”
LG: “There are a lot of kids in this world that would die to be in this car right now.”
Me: “Or to even have a car.”
LG: “Or to have a mother.”
Abigail: “Not if their mom sang like that.”
Me: “Especially if their mom sang like that.”
LG: “Yeah, think of all the kids out there that don’t live a country where they have mothers.” (O.k. I just made that up.) I think he really said, “You should be grateful for a mother who can sing, and cook, and do laundry.”
Abigail: “At least parents in other countries would be smart enough NOT to drive their family into the middle of the traffic jam, especially when their family missed the show.”
Me: “Well, at least there are other Americans with cars.”
LG: “And at least your mom can see in the dark and drive.”
Bella: “Mom, STOP!” (I admit it I barely missed that car in front of me.)
Anyhow, the conversation went on for a bit. And there was no chance of it stopping.
[In fact, it can still be happening if you want to comment what your best line would have been to the kids.]
Quietly, ever so quietly and with her Gold sense of perfect timing, Sophia chimes in. She must have looked up from reading Harry Potter for long enough to gather her sisters’ desperation for winning at the “Be glad you are American” game.
What does she say?
Brace yourself.
“Man, I wished I lived in Canada.”
Seven words. That’s all it takes to make a total complete disaster of an evening all worth it.
Good one Phia. Good one.
Average Americans should really consider more than 2.5 kids; they make everything more fun.
I told the kids that if they would sing their favorite patriotic song at the top of their lungs, then I would indeed STOP.
Abigail was loud and proud. I wonder where she gets that from?
“I’m a yankee doodle dandy. A yankee doodle, do or die.”
I am sure that all that traffic surrounding us was so grateful that they didn’t miss the real entertainment of the evening as I rolled all windows down.
And If I do say so myself those frostys from Wendy’s were the perfect consolation prize for everyone involved. Nothing like good old American food.
And when the song Firework came on the radio. I promise you, not just momma was singing. Even dad got in on the falsetto. Perfection, pure perfection.
We didn’t miss a thing. The fireworks had been going off in our car all night long.
And guess what? Utah loosened their firework laws this year. We can now shoot off 150 foot rockets from our very own neighborhoods. And on the real 4th of July, the sky was lit up in every direction we could turn. Our culdesac of fire was a billion times better than their Stadium of Fire. Fireworks in the sky on all four sides, coming from everywhere.
God bless America.
I am trying my darndest to keep you guys entertained.
Smile.
Laugh.
And thank God for all your blessings.
Thank me in a comment. 🙂
My little family has a long history with wolves. We have a very small zoo where we live, but It’s biggest exhibit is the wolves. When my daughter was 3, we visited the zoo and watched the wolves from an observation deck. The deck is open air and keeps you about 8 feet above the ground level. One wolf apparently thought my daughter would be a tasty treat. He trotted right over, sat down in front of her, and started licking his lips. He kept staring at her and licking his lips until we left! Needless to say, I kept a very tight hand on her that visit!
Since then, the zoo built a nice building you can go in to observe the wolves on ground level through a large, thick window. The first time we went there, one of the wolves apparently took a disliking to my son. The wolf saw him through the window and tried to urinate on him! Seriously disgusting, wolf!
Speaking of disgusting things that wolves do, my daughter, who is now 7, had the opportunity to see a presentation on wolves with one of her friends. She learned when a wolf makes a large kill, and is unable to take it back to the den, the wolf will urinate on the meat to “mark” it as his own. All the kids in the crowd were completely disgusted. However, my daughter thought about it for a minute and said, “Well, actually, it’s just like he’s putting his own sauce on it!”
I guess that disgusting wolf was just trying to put some sauce on my son!
I may not be able to tell you what you should buy for your dad/hubby for Father’s Day, but I can tell you what NOT to buy.
My hubby, LG, was checking out Amazon’s list of Father’s Day sale items and gave me the low down.
Here was his strongest reaction.
Tupperware? Tupperware! Tupperware?! Show me one dad in the universe that would want Tupperware for Father’s Day.
Knives are just a tad bit better, but seriously? Who is running this website? Every metrosexual homosexual girly stay-home dad they could find?
Hmm. Robotic lawnmower. (said in a non-emotional voice)
Me: I thought you would love that?
LG: Oh yeah, that is cool. I would love that.
My man would also love that metal detector. It’s a gadget. Anything gadget is beyond good. We decided that Ikea is the best store ever for a date-night because it combines a man’s love for gadget with a woman’s love for decor and beauty. He would also love the flatscreen or the wireless wireless forecast station.
Looking at the list this morning, I don’t need my man to give me his two cents to instantly pick out other items that would be a bust at my house: lava lamp (he is 35 now), Jalepeno Rack (what the crap is that?), the turkey fryer (he wouldn’t even be able to try it out until November), the picture frames (he doesn’t love us that much), Desktop Humidor (I know we are kind of less than cultured but what is that? Is it just that I am a Mormon. Is a Humidor where a man keeps his cigars? I seriously don’t know), the white dinky office chair (he’s a man people, he wants a real chair), and last but certainly not least, the gnome (what kind of fathers day message does that send…you are so…um…round in the middle).
If I HAD to buy from Amazon, I would go with the hammock on the second page. Or the robotic lawn mower. I would maybe even entertain the idea of the outdoor food smoker (if the man actually EVER cooked anything in his life).
Since the lawnmower is 800 fat ones and the metal detector is 849 and the flat screen is only 42″, I guess I am going to have to go with my first and best idea: vienna sausages.
I try to buy the man some kind of sausage for every holiday and the little metal can will take him right down memory lane. He was telling the girls just yesterday about when he was a kid he loved his Saturday adventures. He would load up his backpack with everything he needed (food, water, toilet paper) and head out for an adventure on his bike. He would be gone all day looking for abandoned building out in the forest. For some reason that he can’t explain, his food always included vienna sausages. Gross.
This year, I am packing a backpack full of vienna sausages and taking the man on an adventure for Father’s Day. I might even give him the ultimate gift. I might even eat one of the sausages. Or not.
Or I may have to rethink the whole holiday by shopping at America’s true manly man store.
Walmart here I come.
I would never want to disappoint this man. Look at him. He’s the best daddy ever.
alice w. gold 