My 12 year old daughter asked me, “Mom, do you have a baby picture of yourself? I need it for a school project.”
I gave her one without thinking to ask what the project was.
A few days later I was in her classroom for a parent-teacher meeting when I noticed my face pinned to a mural the students had created.
The title of their project was: “The oldest thing in my house.”
A teenager invited his girlfriend over to Sunday dinner to meet his parents for the first time. He warned her that his mother can be strong willed and very critical of his friends.
She replied, “Don’t worry, I can hold my own. I’ll nicely put her in her place if need be.”
After dinner the teen asked his girlfriend why she hadn’t stood up to his mother. She answered by saying, “I’m not worried about her, it’s the horde of flying monkeys that must be waiting outside that bothers me.”
After an overnight flight to meet my father at his latest military assignment, my mother wearily arrived at Rhein-Main Air Base in Germany with my eight siblings and me – all under age 11. Collecting our many suitcases, the ten of us entered the cramped customs area.
A young customs official watched our entourage in disbelief, “Ma’am,” he said, “do all these children and this luggage belong to you?”
“Yes, sir,” my mother said with a sigh. “They’re all mine.”
The customs agent began his interrogation: “Ma’am, do you have any weapons, contraband or illegal drugs in your possession?”
“Sir,” she calmly answered, “if I’d had any of those items, I would have used them by now.”
The official allowed us to pass without opening a single suitcase.