Don’t mess with Mom …
Michael invited his mother to dinner. Mom couldn’t help notice his roommate Jennifer was very beautiful. She’d long been suspicious there was a relationship between the two and this evening left her more convinced than ever.
Reading Mom’s thoughts, Michael volunteered, “I know what you’re thinking Mom, but I assure you Jennifer and I are just roommates.”
About a week later, Jennifer asked Michael, “Have you seen our beautiful silver gravy ladle? I haven’t seen it since your mother was here to dinner. I know she wouldn’t deliberately, but you don’t suppose she took it do you?”
“I doubt it,” said Michael, “I’ll send her an e-mail to make sure.”
“Dear Mom,” he typed,
“I’m not saying you ‘did’ take the gravy ladle from the house, I’m not saying you ‘did not’ take the gravy ladle. The fact remains that it’s been missing since you were here for dinner?
A few days later he received a reply. “Dear Son: I’m not saying that you ‘do’ sleep with Jennifer, I’m not saying that ‘you do not’ sleep with Jennifer. But the fact remains that if Jennifer is sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now.
Ah, mom’s comeback brought the Truculent Trio of Christmas past to mind, and fairy tale e-mails came along. A fun-fantasy exchange of e-mails ‘twixt our Michael and our Stephen riding their high horses atop our Ottawa Hill.
Stephen: (neither would say Dear in this exchange).
I’m not saying it’s a good budget, I’m not saying it’s a bad budget, the fact remains there are some things missing, but you apparently listened. Aren’t you glad ‘I told you so?’
I’m not saying you slept with the coalition, I’m not saying you didn’t, but the fact remains Canadians, especially those not recession proofed as you and I are, are convinced the gravy ladle used to dip into taxpayers dollars for political parties, the apparent cause of all this fuss, is somewhere beneath the covers of a coalition members’ bed. Thousands of taxpaying Canadians who are out of work, reliant upon employment insurance, and re-training, many are wondering why them, while you’re on full salary plus gold-plated perks for your re-training period? I’ll never tell and you know my word is my bond, just like yours, eh?
Meanwhile, with a wallet full of cash you can board a Climate Change Jet?
“Join us on a 25-day journey by private jet. Touch down in some of the most astonishing places on the planet to see the top wildlife, including gorilla, orangutans, rhinos, lemurs and toucans. Explore natural and cultural treasures in remote areas of South America, the South Pacific, Southeast Asia and Africa.”
“To reach these remote corners, travel on a specially outfitted private jet that carries 88 passengers. World class experts—including WWF’s director of species conservation—will provide a series of lectures en route and a professional staff will be devoted to making your global adventure seamless and memorable.”
You can join this World Wildlife Fund’s world tour for ,950 and get away from winter and spring from April 6 through 30. Interested? Check the WWF website on the net!
Actions speak louder than words. I gather this will curb climate change. How?
It seems, taking our readings from the actions of leaders in high places the recession is ours, not there’s, just as it was during the Dirty Thirties depression … oh pardon me, I keep forgetting politically correct lingo. It’s just that, speaking from experience, I know politically correct lingo isn’t always the facts ma’am, and it sure doesn’t put bread on the table.
A tip of the hat to Mom’s like Michael’s. They’re the people who’ll get us through whatever’s coming ‘cause you’ll never know what’s coming if you rely on listening to the “experts.” Our Mom’s, with help from Dad’s some working, some not, got us through the Dirty Thirties. They were something else, heroes and heroines one and all!