The Miracle of a Brother's Song

Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could do to help her 3-year-old son, Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They found out that the new baby was going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael would sing to his sister in Mommy's tummy.

The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen. Then the labor pains came. Every five minutes... every minute. 

But complications arose during delivery. Hours of labor. A C-Section was required. Finally, Michael's little sister was born, but she was in serious condition. With sirens howling in the night, the ambulance rushed the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital in Knoxville, Tennessee.

The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The pediatric specialist tells the parents, "There is little hope. Be prepared for the worst." Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot. The had fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby - now they plan a funeral. Michael, kept begging his parent to let him see his sister, "I want to sing to her," he says.

Week two in intensive care. It looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over. Michael keeps nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care.

Karen made up her mind. She would take Michael whether they liked it or not. If he didn't see his sister now, he would never see her alive.

She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He looked like a walking laundry basket, but the head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed in ICU."

The mother rises up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glares steel-eyed into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"

Karen tows Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazes at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. And he begins to sing. In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sings:

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray —"

Instantly the baby girl responded. The pulse rate became calm and steady.

"You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away —"

The ragged strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten's purr.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms . . ."

Michael's little sister relaxes as rest, healing rest, seemed to sweep over her. Tears conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't take my sunshine away."

Funeral plans were scrapped. The next day, the very next day, the little girl was well enough to go home! Woman's Day magazine called it "the miracle of a brother's song." The medical staff just called it a miracle.

We Are Never Alone

Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's rite of passage?

As a boy approaches manhood, his father takes him into the forest blindfolded. He is then left alone, blindfolded, and he is required to sit on a tree stump the entire night. He is not allowed to take off the blindfold until the first ray of sun shines through it. He is all by himself and he cannot cry out for help to anyone.

Once he survives the night... he has become a MAN. He cannot tell anyone of this experience, as each boy must come into his own manhood.

One boy, on the brink of manhood, was lead into the forest by his father. The boy was terrified, as he could hear all kinds of noises. He felt the the beasts all around him and was afraid that maybe even some human would hurt him. The wind blew the grass and earth and it shook his stump. But he sat stoically... never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could be a man.

Finally, after a long horrific night, the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold. It was then that he saw his father... sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, to ensure that no harm came to his son.

That is how life is... we are never truly alone. Even when we do not know it, our loved ones are there, watching out for us... sitting on the stump beside us.

My Dinner Date

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, "I love you, but I know this other woman loves you too, and she would love to spend some time with you."

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.

"What's wrong, are you well?" she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.

"I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you," I responded. "Just the two of us."

She thought about it for a moment, and then said... "I would like that very much."

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up, I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.

"I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting."

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.

"It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said.

"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded.

During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation - nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other's life. We talked so much that we missed the movie.

As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed.

"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home.

"Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.

A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son."

At that moment I understood the importance of saying, in time, "I LOVE YOU."

And to give our loved ones the time they deserve. Because nothing is more important in life than family... and they shouldn't be put off until "some other time.”

Ugly

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world:fighting, eating garbage, and, shall we say, love. The combination of these things, combined with a life spent outside, had their effect on Ugly.

To start with, he had only one eye and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner. His tail had long ago been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch.

Ugly would have been a dark grey tabby, striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!" All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave.

Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up, he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor's huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.

Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. It must be hurting him terribly, I thought.

Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear. Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying, was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring.

Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion. At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly.

Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for. Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be like Ugly.

Embrace Life

A man of 92 years, short, very well-presented, who takes great care in his appearance, is moving into an old people’s home today. His wife of 70 has recently died, and he is obliged to leave his home.After waiting several hours in the retirement home lobby, he gently smiles as he is told that his room is ready.

As he slowly walks to the elevator, using his cane, I describe his small room to him, including the sheet hung at the window which serves as a curtain.

"I like it very much," he says, with the enthusiasm of an 8 year old boy who has just been given a new puppy

"Mr. Smith, you haven’t even seen the room yet, hang on a moment, we are almost there."

"That has nothing to do with it," he replies.

“Happiness is something I choose in advance. Whether or not I like the room does not depend on the furniture, or the decor – rather it depends on how I decide to see it."

"It is already decided in my mind that I like my room. It is a decision I take every morning when I wake up."

"I can choose. I can spend my day in bed enumerating all the difficulties that I have with the parts of my body that no longer work very well, or I can get up and give thanks to heaven for those parts that are still in working order. Every day is a gift, and as long as I can open my eyes, I will focus on the new day, and all the happy memories that I have built up during my life."

"Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw in later life what you have deposited along the way."

So, my advice to you is to deposit all the happiness you can in your bank account of memories.

Thank you for your part in filling my account with happy memories, which I am still continuing to fill…

Remember these simple guidelines for happiness.

1. Free your heart from hate.

2. Free your mind from worry.

3. Live simply.

4. Give more.

5. Expect less.

Burnt Toast

When I was a kid, my Mom liked to cook food and every now & then I remember she used to cook for us.

One night in particular when she had made dinner after a long hard day at work,

Mom placed a plate of bread jam and extremely burned toast in front of my dad.

I was waiting to see if anyone noticed the burnt toast.

But Dad just ate his toast and asked me how was my day at school.

I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember I heard Mom apologizing to dad for burning the toast.

And I'll never forget what he said: "Honey, I love burned toast."

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his toast burned.

He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your momma put in a long hard day at work today and she was really tired.

And besides, A burnt toast never hurts anyone but harsh words do!"

You know, life is full of imperfect things and imperfect people

I'm not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else.

What I've learned over the years, is that learning to accept each others faults and choosing to celebrate each others differences, is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.

Life is too short to wake up with regrets. Love the people who treat you right and have compassion for the ones who don't.

ENJOY LIFE NOW.

It has an expiration date.

Just Three Words

A woman was sitting at a bar enjoying an after-work cocktail with her girlfriends when an exceptionally tall, handsome, extremely sexy young man entered. He was so striking that the woman could not take her eyes away from him.

The young man noticed her overly attentive stare and walked directly toward her. Before she could offer her apologies for being so rude for staring, the young man said to her, "I'll do anything, absolutely anything, that you want me to do, no matter how kinky, for $100, on one condition."

Flabbergasted, the woman asked what the condition was.

The young man replied, "You have to tell me what you want me to do in just three words."

The woman considered his proposition for a moment, withdrew from her purse and slowly counted out five $20 bills, which she pressed into the young man's hand along with her address. She looked deeply into his eyes and slowly, meaningfully said, "Clean my house."

$5.37

"$5.37." That's what the kid behind the counter at Taco Bell said to me. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I started to head back out to the truck to grab some change, when the kid with the Elmo hairdo said the harshest thing anyone has ever said to me.

He said, "It's OK. I'll just give you the senior citizen discount." I turned to see who he was talking to and then heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. "Only $4.68," he said cheerfully.

I stood there stupefied. I am 58, not even 60 yet. A mere child! Senior citizen? I took my burrito and walked out to the truck, wondering what was wrong with Elmo. Was he blind? As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil. Old? Me? I'll show him, I thought. I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was waiting with a smile. Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily distracted! What am I now? A toddler? "Dude! Can't get too far without your car keys, eh?"

I stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to rationalize in my mind. "Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly! It could happen to anyone!" I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn't turn.

What now? I checked my keys and tried another. Still nothing. That's when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror. I had no purple beads hanging from my rearview mirror.

Then, a few other objects came into focus. The car seat in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially eaten doughnut on the dashboard. Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the alien vehicle. Moments later I was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my life. That is when I felt it, deep in the bowels of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my burrito, only it was nowhere to be found.

I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Elmo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could think was, "What is the world coming to?" All I could say was, "Did I leave my food and drink in here?" At this point I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security benefits.

Elmo had no clue. I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His mother explained, "I think you left this in my truck by mistake." I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized. He offered these kind words, "It's OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time." All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40. Yes, I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And, no, I told the officer, I'm not too old to be driving this fast. As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blankey. The good news was I had successfully found my way home.

Who's George?

The worried housewife sprang to the telephone when it rang and listened with relief to the kindly voice in her ear. "How are you, darling?" it said. "What kind of a day are you having?"

"Oh, mother," said the housewife, breaking into bitter tears, "I've had such a bad day. The baby won't eat and the washing machine broke down. I haven't had a chance to go shopping, and besides, I've just sprained my ankle and I have to hobble around. On top of that, the house is a mess and I'm supposed to have two couples to dinner tonight."

The mother was shocked and was at once all sympathy. "Oh, darling," she said, "Sit down, relax, and close your eyes. I'll be over in half an hour. I'll do your shopping, clean up the house, and cook your dinner for you. I'll feed the baby and I'll call a repairman I know who'll be at your house to fix the washing machine promptly. Now stop crying. I'll do everything. In fact, I'll even call George at the office and tell him he ought to come home and help out for once."

"George?" said the housewife. "Who's George?"

"Why, George! Your husband! Is this 223-1374?"
"No, this is 223-1375."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I have the wrong number."

There was a short pause and the housewife said, "Does this mean you're not coming over?"

Dear Taylor

When 12-year-old Taylor Smith wrote a special letter to herself last year, to be read in 10 years’ time, she didn’t know it would be opened before even a year had passed - and that it wouldn’t be her eyes reading the words.

Instead, it was opened by Taylor’s parents after she died in early January, 2014. They posted the letter to Facebook, hoping Taylor’s words would inspire others.

It has. “We’ve gotten letters from lots of parents who’ve said it’s encouraged them to love their kids and love each other,” said Taylor’s mother, Mary Ellen Smith.

The envelope was marked "confidential," and for "Taylor's eyes only."

Here's a transcript of the letter:

"Dear Taylor, How’s life? Life is pretty simple right now (10 years in your past). I know I’m late for you, but as I’m writing, this is early, so; congratulations on graduating high school! If you didn’t go back and keep trying. Get that degree! Are you (we) in college? If not, I understand. We do have pretty good reasoning, after all. Don’t forget, it’s Allana’s 11th birthday today! Sheesh, 11 already? In my time, she just turned 1! I didn’t get to go to that party though, because I was in Cranks, Kentucky for my first mission trip. I’ve only been back for 6 days! Speaking of, how’s your relationship with GOD? Have you prayed, worshipped, read the bible, or gone to serve the lord recently? If not, get up and do so NOW! I don’t care what point in our life we’re in right now, do it! He was mocked, beaten, tortured, and crucified for you! A sinless man, who never did you or any other person any wrong! Now, have you gone on any more mission trips? Have you been out of the country yet? How about on a plane? Is Doctor Who still on the air? If not, what regeneration did they end it with? You should go watch some Doctor Who! Later though, you gotta finish reading your own words of wisdom! Do you have your own place yet? If we’re in college, what are we majoring in? Right now, I wanna be a lawyer. Have you been to Dollywood recently? Right now, their newest attraction is the Wild Eagle. It’s so fun!Also I think I’m going to sell my iPad and buy an iPad mini, Don’t forget to tell your kids that we’re older than the tablet! Attached I also have a drawing of an iPad, so you can show them. Well, I think that’s all. But remember, it’s been 10 years since I wrote this. Stuff has happened, good and bad. That’s just how life works, and you have to go with it. Sincerely, Taylor Smith"

Just Stay

The nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside.

"Your son is here," she said to the old man.

She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.

Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so that the Marine could sit beside the bed.. All through the night the young Marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile.

He refused.. Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the Marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients.

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The Marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited.

Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.

"Who was that man?" he asked.

The nurse was startled, "He was your father," she answered.

"No, he wasn't," the Marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life."

"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?"

"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his
son just wasn't here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed.

I came here tonight to find a Mr. William Grey. His son was killed in Iraq today, and I was sent to inform him. May I ask what this gentleman's name was?"

The nurse with tears in her eyes answered, "Mr. William Grey."

The next time someone needs you... just be there. Just stay.

Dear Cutie-Pie

Dr. Kelly Flanigan is a therapist who has seen women who need a good man in their lives, time and time again. He wanted to write a letter to not only his little girl, but to every woman out there. It's a fantastic reminder of what a man needs to be to his wife.

"Dear Cutie-Pie,

Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was "How to keep him interested."

It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.

And I got angry.

Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to "keep him interested."

Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul -- in that unshakable place that isn't rattled by rejection and loss and ego - that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)

If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.

Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn't need to be kept interested, because he knows you are interesting:

I don't care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table - as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can't stop looking.

I don't care if he can't play a bit of golf with me - as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.

I don't care if he doesn't follow his wallet - as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.

I don't care if he is strong --as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.

I couldn't care less how he votes - as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.

I don't care about the color of his skin - as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.

I don't care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion - as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.

In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common: You.

Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to "keep him interested" is to be you.

Your eternally interested guy,

Daddy"

What's a Keeper?

I grew up in the 40s/50s with practical parents. Mother, God love her, washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle queen before they had a name for it. Father was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones.

Their marriage was good and their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, t-shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand and dish-towel in the other.

It was the time for fixing things. A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, a screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, eating, renewing. I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But then my mother died, and on that clear summer's night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more.

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away, never to return. So while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, fix it when it's broken, and heal it when it's sick.

This is true for marriage, old cars, children with bad report cards, dogs with bad hips, aging parents, and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.

Some things we keep, like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special, and so we keep them close!

I received this from someone who thinks I am a "keeper", so I've shared it, and it's your turn to share this with those people that are "keepers" in your life.

Dear Tech Support

Dear Tech Support,

Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and noticed a distinct slow down in overall system performance — Particularly in the flower and jewelry applications, which operated flawlessly under Boyfriend 5.0.

In addition, Husband 1.0 uninstalled many other valuable programs, such as Romance 9.5 and Personal Attention 6.5 and then installed undesirable programs such as NFL 5.0, NBA 3.0, and Golf Clubs 4.1. Conversation 8.0 no longer runs, and Housecleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system. I’ve tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems, but to no avail.

What can I do?

Signed, Desperate

Dear Desperate:

First keep in mind, Boyfriend 5.0 is an Entertainment Package, While Husband 1.0 is an Operating System.

Please enter the command: “http: I Thought You Loved Me.HTML” and try to download Tears 6.2 and don’t forget to install the Guilt 3.0 update. If that application works as designed, Husband 1.0 should then automatically run the applications Jewelry 2.0 and Flowers 3.5.

But remember, overuse of the above application can cause Husband 1.0 to default to Grumpy Silence 2.5, Happy Hour 7.0 or Beer 6.1.

Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will download the Snoring Loudly Beta.

Whatever you do, DO NOT install Mother-in-law 1.0 (it runs a virus in the background that will eventually seize control of all your system resources). Also, do not attempt to reinstall the Boyfriend 5.0 program. These are unsupported applications and will crash Husband 1.0.

In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program, but it does have limited memory and cannot learn new applications quickly. You might consider buying additional software to improve memory and performance We recommend Food 3.0 and Hot Lingerie 7.7.

Good Luck,

Tech Support

The History of Aprons

I don't think our kids know what an apron is. The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath because she only had a few. It was also because it was easier to wash aprons than dresses and aprons used less material. But along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven.

It was wonderful for drying children's tears and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks and sometimes half hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.

When company came those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids.

And when the weather was cold Grandma wrapped it around her arms.

Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.

Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.

From the garden it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls.

In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.

When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron and the men folk knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that 'old-time apron' that served so many purposes."

25 Ways You Know You’re a Stay at Home Mom

I read this on scarymommy.com and nearly choked on my coffee! These are the 25 Ways You Know You’re a Stay at Home Mom:

1. At least half of your meals consist of your child’s leftovers.

2. When your husband asks, “what did you do today?” you can’t muster up a single thing to report, despite feeling like you’ve been put through the spin cycle of the washing machine.

3. Your kids ask where you are going when you put on jeans.

4. You can clean your entire house with a package of baby wipes.

5. A “night out” is roaming the aisles at Target alone.

6. The TV has been on all day, but you have no idea what’s happening in world news.

7. Showering is a major accomplishment.

8. Your kids see you naked more often than your husband.

9. You actually know what the fox says, or what it could say at least, because 50% of your time is spent making animal sounds.

10. Your mood depends solely on the length of time your child napped for.

11. Putting a bra on means someone special is coming over.

12. On the way out the door, You look down at your kids crusty food on your shirt and think to yourself, eh, it’s not that bad. Or worse, you pick it off and actually taste it.

13. You fake stomach problems once your husband gets home, just so you can be alone in your own bathroom.

14. Your dog barks when you put “real” shoes on.

15. You have invited Jehovahs Witnesses in on more than one occasion, and scared them off after asking if they’d like a dirty martini.

16. You have to check the weather outside before you head out because you have no idea how cold or warm it is because you haven’t been out in days.

17. You consider going on Facebook “spending time with your friends.”

18. You’ve been wearing the same outfit for a couple days in a row…and you’re not sure exactly how many “a couple” means.

19. You’ve contemplated performing your own hysterectomy while preparing dinner… more than once.

20. Your vacuum cleaner is a permanent fixture in [insert the busiest room in the house] and hasn’t been unplugged for three months.

21. You have no idea what the date or day of the week is, but you can tell what time it is just by what cartoon is on TV.

22. It’s only 9AM and you’ve thought “I need a drink.”

23. You’re nursing an infant on the toilet while simultaneously scheduling a doctor’s visit.

24. The cup of coffee you are drinking at lunch is the cup you made at 5:30am, just reheated for the 100th time.

25. You don’t want to go to bed at night because the silence is just too beautiful, no matter how tired you are.

Phteven With A Ph

Hello, my name is Phteven... My friend told the lady at McDonalds "It's Stephen, with a ph"... this is what happened...

The Mason Jar

This is a very important life lesson that a philosophy teacher taught his students.

The teacher cleared off his desk and placed on top of it a few items. One of the items was an empty mason jar. He proceeded to fill up the jar with golf balls until he could fit no more. He looked at the classroom and asked his students if they agree that the jar is full. Every student agreed that the jar was indeed full.

The teacher then picked up a box of small pebbles and poured them into the jar with the golf balls. The pebbles filled all of the openings in between the golf balls. He asked the students if the jar was full. Once again, they agreed.

Now the teacher picked up a bag of sand and poured it into the mason jar. The sand filled in all of the empty space left between the golf balls and pebbles. He asked the class again if the jar was full. The students agreed it was technically full.

Finally, the teacher pulled out two cups of coffee from under his desk and poured both of them into the jar filling the empty space between the sand. Now the students began to laugh wondering how far this was going.

The teacher waited until the laughter stopped. "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life," he started. "The golf balls represent the important things. Your family, children, health, friends, and passions. If everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles represent the other things in life that matter, such as your job, house and car. The sand... that is everything else. The small stuff. If you put the sand in first, there is no room for the pebbles or golf balls.

The same goes for life. If you spend all of your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are most important. Pay attention to the important things in your life.

Enjoy time with family. Go to dinner with your spouse. Play games with your kids. There will ALWAYS be time to clean the house or take yourself shopping.

Take care of the golf balls first... the things that really matter. The rest is just sand. You are dismissed."

Before the students left, one shouted out. "You never mentioned what the coffee represents!"

The professor smiled and said, "Well I'm glad you asked. The coffee just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room to have a cup of coffee with a friend."

Final Request

An old preacher was dying. He sent a message for his IRS agent and his lawyer (both church members), to come to his home. When they arrived, they were ushered up to his bedroom. As they entered the room, the preacher held out his hands and motioned for them to sit on each side of the bed.

The preacher grasped their hands, sighed contentedly, smiled and stared at the ceiling.

For a time, no one said anything. Both the IRS agent and lawyer were touched and flattered that the old preacher would ask them to be with him during his final moment. They, however, were also puzzled because the preacher had never given any indication that he particularly liked either one of them.

Finally, the lawyer asked, "Preacher, why did you ask the two of us to come?" The old preacher mustered up some strength, then said weakly, "Jesus died between two thieves, and that's how I want to go, too."

Mother-Of-The-Bride

Jennifer's wedding day was fast approaching. Nothing could dampen her
excitement - not even her parents' nasty divorce. Her mother had found the
PERFECT dress to wear and would be the best-dressed Mother-of-the-bride ever!

A week later, Jennifer was horrified to learn that her father's new Young
wife had bought the exact same dress as her mother's! Jennifer asked the
new wife to exchange it, but she refused. Absolutely not. I look like a
million bucks in this dress, and I'm wearing it," she replied.

Jennifer told her mother who graciously said, "Never mind sweetheart. I'll
get another dress. After all, it's your special day." A few days later, they
went shopping and did find another gorgeous dress. When they stopped for
lunch, Jennifer asked her mother, aren't you going to return the other
dress? You really don't have another occasion where you could wear it."

Her mother just smiled and replied, "Of course I do, dear. I'm wearing it to
the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding!"