Retarded Grandparents

This was actually reported by a teacher...

After Christmas, a teacher asked her young pupils how they spent their holiday away from school.

One child wrote the following:

We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa.

They used to live in a big brick house but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Batemans Bay where everyone lives in nice little houses, and so they don't have to mow the grass anymore!

They ride around on their bicycles and scooters and wear name tags because they don't know who they are anymore.

They go to a building called a wreck center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now. They do exercises there, but they don't do them very well. 

There is a swimming pool too, but they all jump up and down in it with hats on.  At their gate, there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out, and go cruising in their golf carts!  Nobody there cooks, they just eat out.  And, they eat the same thing every night --- early birds.

Some of the people can't get out past the man in the doll house.  The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked center for pot luck.

My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too.

When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the doll house.  Then I will let people out, so they can visit their grandchildren.

I'm Retired

As I was lying in bed pondering the problems of the world, I rapidly realized that I don't really give a  rat's hiney. It's the tortoise life for me!

  

1. If walking is good for your health, the postman would be immortal. 

2. A whale swims all day, only eats fish, drinks water, and  is fat

3. A rabbit runs and hops and only lives 8 months. 

4. A tortoise doesn't run and does nothing, yet it lives for 450 years.

And you tell me to exercise?? I don't think so. 

I'm retired. Go around me.

Gonna Be A Bear

My sister-in-law sent me this little story a couple of days ago.  I couldn't resist...

In this life I'm a woman. In my next life, I'd Like to come back as a bear.

When your a bear, you get to hibernate. You do nothing but sleep for six months. I could deal with that.

Before you hibernate, your suppose to eat yourself stupid. I could deal with that too.

When your a girl bear, you birth your children (who are the size of walnuts) while your sleeping and wake up to partially grown, cute, cuddly cubs. I could definatley deal with that.

If your a mama bear, everyone knows you mean business. you swat away anyone who bothers your cubs. If your cubs get out of line, you swat them too. I could deal with that.

If you're a bear, your mate EXPECTS you to wake up growling. He EXPECTS that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat.

YUP, GONNA BE A BEAR

The Sun

The sun benefits us in a number of ways. 

The sun delivers heat, raising core body temperature. Higher core body temperatures facilitate increased cell function and higher energy. This increases our detoxification and purification systems. 

Sun also regulates our natural biorhythm cycles. Boosted core temperatures increase cortisol levels during the day, ushering more relaxation and deeper sleep during the night.

So last night, I stayed up all night to see where the sun actually went. Than it dawned on me.

Ringo

When I tuned 10, we got a dog.  Not sure if it was for me necessarily, but that year the family decided we’d should have one.

He wasn’t any particular breed… just your basic heinz 57.  He was mostly black in color, with the exception of white paws and a white patch between his eyes.  We named him Ringo.

He grew up to be a beautiful looking dog. Big and solid, and very friendly.

The only problem was, he would never stay home.  Unless, of course he was chained up.  Which I don’t think any dog should have to live that way.

Ringo had a very ‘odd’ weakness.  When he’d leave our property, to go and check out the neighborhood, he couldn’t resist, clothes lines.  The first clothes line he’d see, with any kind of clothes hanging on it, he had to rip something off it. We saw him dragging home blankets, towels, long johns, shirts, you name it.

When I think back on that era of my life, I wonder if it was Ringo’s way of helping out.  Shopping for the family, so to speak.  None of the garments were ever used by us, and I’m sure most were returned, if they were in fact worth returning, and if we knew where it may have come from.  Yes, the town was so small, you got to know the color of some people’s underwear.

When the complaints started from the neighbours, we knew we had to do something.  I built him a house, and we had to tie him up permanently.  He hated it!  And because of that, he would bark non stop, day and night.  More complaints came in.

Suddenly, one night the barking stopped.   When I checked on him the next morning he was gone. Somehow he twisted off his chain during the night, and no doubt made a mad dash, for freedom.


We never saw Ringo after that night.  He may have ripped off his last pair of long johns, but he never lived to bring them home.

Today I believe Ringo is in doggy heaven, completely surrounded by clothes lines!