Funny Joke

June 22, 2006

I ran across this little joke on the net the other day. If you have raised kids and done the pet thing, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was “something wrong” with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.
“He’s just lying here looking sick,” he told me. “I’m serious, Mom. Can you help?

“I put my best lizard-healer statement on my face and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. “Honey,” I called, “come look at the lizard!”

“Oh my gosh,” my husband diagnosed after a minute. “She’s having babies.”

“What?” my son demanded. “But their names are Bert and Ernie, Dad!” I was equally outraged. “Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn’t want them to reproduce,” I accused my husband.

“Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?” he inquired. (I actually think he said this sarcastically!)

“No, but you were supposed to get two boys!” I reminded him, (in my [most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).

“Yeah, Bert and Ernie!” my son agreed.

“Well, it’s just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know,” He informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, you think?)

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. “Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,” I announced. “We’re about to witness the miracle of birth.”

“OH, Gross!” they shrieked.

Well, isn’t THAT just great! What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?” my husband wanted to know. (I really do think he was being snotty here, too, don’t you?)

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

“We don’t appear to be making much progress,” I noted.

“Its breech,” my husband whispered, horrified.

“Do something, Mom!” my son urged.

“Okay, okay.” Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

“Should I call 911?” my eldest son wanted to know. “Maybe they could talk us through the trauma.” (You see a pattern
here with the men in my house?)

“Let’s get Ernie to the vet,” I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

“Breathe, Ernie, breathe,” he urged.

“I don’t think lizards do Lamaze,” his father noted to him (Men can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what he does to me is one thing, but this boy is of his loins, for God’s sake.)

The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

“What do you think, Doc, a C-section?” I suggested scientifically.

“Oh, very interesting,” he murmured. “Mr and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?”

I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

“Is Ernie going to be okay?” my husband asked.

“Oh, perfectly,” the vet assured us. “This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn’t EVER going to happen… Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um….um….masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back”. He blushed, glancing at my husband. “Well, you know what I’m saying, Mrs Cameron.”

We were silent, absorbing this.

“So Ernie’s just…just…Excited,” my husband offered.

“Exactly,” the vet replied, relieved that we understood. More
silence. Then my vicious, cruel husband started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded knowing, but not believing that the man I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless femininity. Tears were now running down his face.

“It’s just… that… I’m picturing… you pulling on it’s… it’s… teeny little…” he gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

“That’s enough,” I warned.

We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the lizards and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.

“I know Ernie’s really thankful for what you’ve done, Mom,” he told me.

“Oh, you have NO idea,” my husband agreed, collapsing with laughter.”

2 – Lizards – $140…
1 – Cage – $50…
Trip to the Vet – $30…
Memory of your wife pulling on a lizard’s wacker. Priceless!!!

BTW, Doesn’t anyone know lizards lay eggs??

Posted by Mr Papa | Filed Under Fun From the Net | Leave a Comment

A Mother’s Meaning of Semper Fi

June 15, 2006

I ran across this story and pictures on the net today. A very moving tribute…

MARINE CORPS BASE CAMP PENDLETON, Calif. (March 2, 2006)
Karla Comfort received a lot of looks and even some salutes from people when she drove from Benton, Ark., to Camp Pendleton, Calif., in her newly-painted, custom Hummer H3 March 2. The vehicle is adorned with the likeness of her son, 20-year-old Lance Cpl. John M. Holmason, and nine other Marines with F Company, 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, 1st Marine Division who where all killed by the same improvised explosive device blast in Fallujah, Iraq, in December. For Comfort, having the vehicle air brushed with the image of the 10 Marines was a way to pay homage to her hero and his fellow comrades who fell on Iraq’s urban battlefield. “I wanted to let people know (Marines) are doing their jobs honorably, and some of them die,” said the 39-year-old from Portland, Ore. “I don’t want people to forget the sacrifices that my son and the other Marines made.” Leading up to her son’s death, Comfort had received several letters from him prior to his return. He had been deployed for five months, and Comfort “worried everyday he was gone until she got the letters and found out the date he was coming home,” she said. Marines knocked on the front door of her home in Farmington, Mich., at 3 a.m. with the dreadful news. “I let my guard down when I found out he was coming home,” she said. “There are times that I still cannot believe it happened. It’s very hard to deal with.” Comfort came up with the idea for the rolling memorial when she and her two other sons attended John’s funeral in Portland, Ore. “I saw a Vietnam (War) >memorial on a car, and I said to my son Josh, ‘we should do something like that for John,” she recalled. “He loved Hummers.” She purchased the vehicle in January and immediately took it to AirbrushGuy & Co. in Benton, Ark., where artist Robert Powell went to work on changing the plain, black vehicle into a decorative, mobile, art piece. “I only had the vehicle for two days before we took it in,” she joked. Two hundred and fifty man-hours later, Powell had completed the vehicle. The custom job would have cost $25,000. Out of respect for Comfort’s loss and the sacrifices the Marines made, AirbrushGuy & Co. did it for free. Comfort only had to purchase the paint, which cost $3,000. “I love it,” she said. “I’m really impressed with it, and I think John would be happy with the vehicle. He would have a big smile on his face because he loved Hummers.” Comfort gave Powell basic instructions on what to include in the paint job. But in addition to the image of her son in Dress Blues and the faces of the nine other Marines, there were several surprises. “He put a lot more on than I expected,” she said. “I think my >favorite part is the heaven scene.” On the left side of the vehicle, a detail of Marines are depicted carrying their fallen comrades through the clouds to their final resting place. The American flag drapes across the hood, the words, “Semper Fi” crown the front windshield and the spare tire cover carries the same Eagle Globe and Anchor design that her son had tattooed on his back. “All the support I have been getting is wonderful,” she said. Comfort decided to move back to her hometown of Portland, and making the cross-country trip from Arkansas was a way for her to share her son’s story. It’s also her way of coping with the loss. “Along the way I got nothing but positive feedback from people,” she said. “What got to me was when people would salute the guys (Marines). It’s hard to look at his picture. I still cry and try to get used to the idea, but it’s hard to grasp the idea that he’s really gone.”