Jokes for Jules
My friend Jules at Another Chance Ranch had a masectomy today (Oz time) and she asked her readers to leave a story that might cheer her up as she came out of recovery. She had some corker efforts in her comments section and I racked my brains to think of a yarn that would make her smile.
My favourite ‘boob’ story is about my nephew, who asked his mother why women had ‘one line”. Confused, she asked him what he meant. He pointed to her chest and said “You know – you all have that one line down your chest – boys don’t have it!”. It actually ended up inspiring her netball team, who proudly play under the moniker: The One Liners.
My other favourite story (which is the one I shared at her place a few minutes ago) is not REALLY to do with anything in the bra-region, but bra-wearers. I hoped it would tickle her (as it did me).
Dash and Violet got off the school bus yesterday, and Dash was all full of his plans for his big road trip. (He and his two mates aged between 8 and 11 have an ongoing ever-evolving plan to drive around Australia, inspired I think by our overseas adventures to the USA).
Anyway, Dash has a complex drawing of a truck with three trailers, on behind the other. These are apparently ‘sleeping compartments’. He points out the one that belongs to Kelvin (the front) and the one that belongs to Darcy (the middle) and the one that belongs to him (the back one). I ask WHY is his the last one, and he says, very seriously:
“Cause the other two are gonna be married, and I’m gonna be single.”
Uh-huh.
I say: “Why does the single person go at the end?”
He says: “They’ll be too noisy.”
Me (tentatively): “And why would THAT be?”
Dash: “Cause girls snore.”
The relief I felt at this answer was audible.
🙂
BB
PS In re-reading this, I realise I should be horrified. I suspect I am the majority of his long-term study on women’s sleeping habits. Oh dear.
9 Comments
Theresa in Alberta
Yes young Dash, my husband tells me all the time that I snore while I am asleep 😉
Buttons
I think this is hilarious.
My prayers go out to Jules.All the best to her. B
Buttons´s last blog post ..The Mission!
Bill
Dash, facebook Jessica Watson about pointers on traveling all the way around something.
Leenie
Good humor is the best medicine. Sending all kinds of good wishes for healing. I’m astonished at how fast things can heal after surgery, especially when the first few days feel like hell on wheels.
Laughing at Dash’s plans to stay away from those snoring girls.
Leenie´s last blog post ..ELUSIVE BUTTERFLIES
Reena
Wishing her all the best. And of course, humor is the BEST medicine. Laughter heals like no other.
Reena´s last blog post ..Morning walk
Nancy in Iowa
Oh, Dash! You certainly know the ways of women at your young age!!!
I think I’ll pop over and tell your friend Jules a story about my sister!
debby
Here’s my story…
I was a new mother, harried and rushing about to go to help out at a school ‘thing’ for my daughter’s class, and I put on a pair of jeans that I’d worn for a couple hours to go to the supermarket the day before, and left laying out to be donned for just this occasion. I went to school and was working for some time. I felt a funny bulge at my ankle, and looked down to see a pair of underwear hanging out the bottom of my pant leg. I was so mortified, I cannot even tell you.
It is now later and those kids are all grown up. What I should have done was this: I should have reached down, grabbed my underwear from my pant let and brandished them over my head yelling ‘TA DA!!!’ Everyone would have assumed that I was the best magician ever.
If that doesn’t make you laugh, how about this. A woman pulled out her checkbook and fumbled around in her bag for a pen. She stood talking for a moment and then turned her attention to writing out the check, only to realize that she’d been talking and waving a tampon around instead of a pen… The best part of this story? For once, it was not me doing the stupid thing…
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Hippomanic Jen
I needed a giggle myself.. Thanks to you all! Particularly Debby just above. Priceless!
Rhu
I do not snore.
I purr.
The end.