Where Did My Funny Bone Go?
At Mother's Day brunch with my youngest daughter last Sunday, she started the conversation with, "You've been awfully serious lately." I didn't know whether to shout for joy (Oh, goodie! One of my kids is actually following my blog!) or cry (Where did my funny bone go?)
The first place I looked was under my bed. That was the "secret hiding place" where I stored all the Christmas presents in the household for years until I got wise. One day I woke up and realized my snoopy juvenile troops were smart enough to have figured out long ago that that was the only space in the house large enough to hold all the "flat" gifts for Dad and four kids plus the stocking stuffers.
Well, how about the basement then? Not very likely. We've never had a basement storeroom big enough to hold all the stuff we collect and never throw out because "I just might want to use it again some day."
What about the shed outdoors? Maybe he's out there (My funny bone has to be a "he"; the men in my family have always out-humored the women). I looked in the shed and all I found was the patio set we didn't get out because we never used it last year, a bale of straw fora laying down between the plants in the garden (I will do anything to keep from having to weed), and an iron frame (Now what have the kids been up to that I don't know about?). And a little mold.
So I guess you all will have to settle for a nothing column today. I have nothing important enough, silly enough, or substantial enough to make a good, solid post with take-home value. Except this advisory: It's time to do a thorough spring cleaning. You never know what you'll find under the bed, in the basement storeroom, or out in the shed! Except a little mold. There's always a little mold, no matter how often you clean the shed.
Religiously yours,
Margaret
The first place I looked was under my bed. That was the "secret hiding place" where I stored all the Christmas presents in the household for years until I got wise. One day I woke up and realized my snoopy juvenile troops were smart enough to have figured out long ago that that was the only space in the house large enough to hold all the "flat" gifts for Dad and four kids plus the stocking stuffers.
Well, how about the basement then? Not very likely. We've never had a basement storeroom big enough to hold all the stuff we collect and never throw out because "I just might want to use it again some day."
What about the shed outdoors? Maybe he's out there (My funny bone has to be a "he"; the men in my family have always out-humored the women). I looked in the shed and all I found was the patio set we didn't get out because we never used it last year, a bale of straw fora laying down between the plants in the garden (I will do anything to keep from having to weed), and an iron frame (Now what have the kids been up to that I don't know about?). And a little mold.
So I guess you all will have to settle for a nothing column today. I have nothing important enough, silly enough, or substantial enough to make a good, solid post with take-home value. Except this advisory: It's time to do a thorough spring cleaning. You never know what you'll find under the bed, in the basement storeroom, or out in the shed! Except a little mold. There's always a little mold, no matter how often you clean the shed.
Religiously yours,
Margaret
