I admit to having been embarrassed by my son in church, and many of you have been embarrassed by your own children. But I think you will all agree that this story takes the cake! And yes, it is true, although names have been changed to protect the innocent!

Josh, my 3-year-old son, has expressed an insatiable curiosity about human anatomy. More specifically, the male anatomy. This completely innocent curiosity recently led to the most embarrassing moment of my entire life!

Our family chose to sit in the front row at Mass on a Sunday (a choice which to this day I cannot justify nor rationalize, and will never again repeat).

During the homily, when the priest was speaking and everyone was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, Josh decided that it would be a good time to examine himself and ask questions which he deemed appropriate.

Being 3, Josh has not learned the difference between whispering and speaking in his normal loud voice, notwithstanding the fact that I have spent many hours lecturing him about the proper use of "library voices."

The conversation went like this:

Josh (loud voice): "Mom, look at my penis, it's standing up."

Mom (library voice, whispering, attempting to distract): "That's interesting, honey. Let's read this book I brought for you."

Josh (even louder voice): "But Mom, I can't get my penis to go back down. It's coming out of my pants! Look, Dad!"

Dad (very stern and serious): "Josh, be quiet, we're at Mass!"

Josh (very upset now): "Mom, look at my penis!"

Tina (my 9-year-old daughter, whispering but clearly agitated): "Mom, make him be quiet, take him out!"

Mom (continuing the facade of a calm and collected voice, still whispering and smiling): "Josh, look at these great blocks Mom brought for you to build with."

Josh (louder and more insistent): "Mom, why is it sticking up?"

Then, without waiting for an answer (as if I had one), Josh began talking to his penis. Josh (very loud, in a commanding voice): "Penis, go back down where you belong and stop bugging me!"

At this point, I was trying to grab Josh to take him out, and at the same time cover his mouth.

Too late. The damage had been done.

I heard chuckling and laughter from the pews around us, and I noticed a distinct break in the priest's homily as he obviously mulled over this very unexpected addition to his sermon. My daughter was hanging her head and shaking it, and my husband rolled his eyes and mouthed the words, "Get him out of here."

My face was three shades of red as I led Josh out down the long aisle and listened to him continually repeat the same inquiry:

"Mom, why won't it go down?"

Never before, never since, and never again will there be a more embarrassing moment for me.

Upon entering the little country store, the stranger noticed a sign saying; DANGER! BEWARE OF DOG! posted on the glass door. Inside he noticed a harmless old hound dog asleep on the floor besides the cash register.

He asked the store manager, "Is THAT the dog folks are supposed to beware of?"

"Yep, that's him," he replied.

The stranger couldn't help but be amused. "That certainly doesn't look like a dangerous dog to me. Why in the world would you post that sign?"

"Because," the owner replied, "before I posted that sign, people kept tripping over him."

Cat Bathing as a Martial Art
by Bud Herron

Some people say cats never have to be bathed. They say cats lick themselves clean. They say cats have a special enzyme of some sort in their saliva that works like New, Improved Wisk - dislodging the dirt where it hides and whisks it away.

I've spent most of my life believing this folklore. Like most blind believers, I've been able to discount all the facts to the contrary - the kitty odors that lurk in the corners of the garage and dirt smudges that cling to the throw rug by the fireplace.

The time comes, however, when a man must face reality; when he must look squarely in the face of massive public sentiment to the contrary and announce: "This cat smells like a port-a-potty on a hot day in Juarez."

When that day arrives at your house, as it has in mine, I have some advice you might consider as you place your feline friend under you arm and head for the bathtub:

* Know that although the cat has the advantage of quickness and lack of concern for human life, you have the advantage of strength. Capitalize on that advantage by selecting the battlefield. Don't try to bathe him in an open area where he can force you to chase him. Pick a very small bathroom. If your bathroom is more than four feet square, I recommend that you get in the tub with the cat and close the sliding-glass doors as if you were about to take a shower. (A simple shower curtain will not do. A berserk cat can shred a three-ply rubber shower curtain quicker than a politician can shift positions.)

* Know that a cat has claws and will not hesitate to remove all the skin from your body. Your advantage here is that you are smart and know how to dress to protect yourself. I recommend canvas overalls tucked into high-top construction boots, a pair of steel-mesh gloves, an army helmet, a hockey face mask and a long-sleeve flak jacket.

* Prepare everything in advance. There is no time to go out for a towel when you have a cat digging a hole in your flak jacket. Draw the water. Make sure the bottle of kitty shampoo is inside the glass enclosure. Make sure the towel can be reached, even if you are lying on your back in the water.

* Use the element of surprise. Pick up your cat nonchalantly, as if to simply carry him to his supper dish. (Cats will not usually notice your strange attire. They have little or no interest in fashion as a rule. If he does notice your garb, calmly explain that you are taking part in a product-testing experiment for J.C. Penney.)

* Once you are inside the bathroom, speed is essential to survival. In a single liquid motion, shut the bathroom door, step into the tub enclosure, slide the glass door shut, dip the cat in the water and squirt him with shampoo. You have begun one of the wildest 45 seconds of your life. Cats have no handles. Add the fact that he now has soapy fur, and the problem is radically compounded. Do not expect to hold on to him for more that two or three seconds at a time. When you have him, however, you must remember to give him another squirt of shampoo and rub like crazy. He'll then spring free and fall back into the water, thereby rinsing himself off. (The national record is -- for cats -- three latherings, so don't expect too much.)

* Next, the cat must be dried. Novice cat bathers always assume this part will be the most difficult, for humans generally are worn out at this point and the cat is just getting really determined. In fact, the drying is simple compared to what you have just been through. That's because by now the cat is semi-permanently affixed to your right leg. You simply pop the drain plug with your foot, reach for your towel and wait. (Occasionally, however, the cat will end up clinging to the top of your army helmet. If this happens, the best thing you can do is to shake him loose and to encourage him toward your leg.) After all the water is drained from the tub, it is a simple matter to just reach down and dry the cat.

In a few days the cat will relax enough to be removed from your leg. He will usually have nothing to say for about three weeks and will spend a lot of time sitting with his back to you. He might even become psychoceramic and develop he fixed stare of a plaster figurine.

You will be tempted to assume he is angry. This isn't usually the case. As a rule he is simply plotting ways to get through your defenses and injure you for life the next time you decide to give him a bath. But, at least now he smells a lot better.

=^..^=

In a recent computer expo, Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated: "If GM had kept up with technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving twenty-five dollar cars that got 1000 miles to the gallon."

In response to Bill's comments, General Motors issued a press release stating: " If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics:

1. For no reason whatsoever your car would crash twice a day.

2. Every time they repainted the lines on the road you would have to buy a new car.

3. Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason, and you would just have to accept this, restart and drive on.

4. Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn, would cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you would have to reinstall the engine.

5. Only one person at a time could use the car, unless you bought "Car95" or Car NT." But then you would have to buy more seats.

6. Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, reliable, five times as fast, and twice as easy to drive, but would only run on five percent of the roads.

7. The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would be replaced by a single "general car default" warning light.

8. New seats would force everyone to have the same size butt.

9. The airbag system would say "Are you sure?" before going off.

10. Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the door handle, turned the key, and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.

11. GM would require all car buyers to also purchase a deluxe set of Rand McNally road maps (now a GM subsidiary), even though they neither need them nor want them. Attempting to delete this option would immediatley cause the car's performance to diminish by 50% or more. Moreover, GM would become a target for investigation by the Justice Department.

12. Every time GM introduced a new model car, buyers would have to learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would operate in the same manner as the old car.

13. You'd press the "start" button to shut off the engine.

Our staff has completed the 3 years of work on time and under budget. We have gone through every line of code in every program in every system. We have analyzed all databases, all data files, including backups and historic archives, and modified all data to reflect the change. We are proud to report that we have completed the "Y-to-K" date change mission, and have now implemented all changes to all programs and all data to reflect the following new standards:

January, Februark, March, April, Mak, June, Julk, August, September, October, November, December

and...

Sundak, Mondak, Tuesdak, Wednesdak Thursdak, Fridak, Saturdak

I trust that this is satisfactory, because to be honest, none of this Y-to-K problem has made any sense to me. But I understand it is a global problem, and our team is glad to help in any way possible. And what does the year 2000 have to do with it?
Speaking of which, what do you think we ought to do next year when the two digit year rolls over from 99 to 00? We'll await your direction.

A burglar got into a house one night. Shining his flashlight on the floor in the dark, he heard a voice saying, "Jesus is watching you."

He looked around nervously, shook his head, and kept looking for valuables. He again heard, "Jesus is watching you." He froze in his tracks, waited quietly for a full minute, then, hearing nothing else he began loading loot into a large bag.

Then the voice came back with "Jesus is coming." This time, he shone his light all over, and it rested on a parrot. He asked, "Did you say that?" The parrot admitted that it had. "You'd better shut up if you know what's good for you," the burglar responded in a threatening tone.

"I'm just trying to warn you,"replied the parrot.

The burglar said, "Warn me, huh? Who are you? What's your name?"

"Moses", said the parrot.

"Well, what kind of stupid people would name a parrot 'Moses'?"

The bird answered, "I don't know; I guess the same folks who would name a 150-pound Rottweiler, 'Jesus'."

Saddam Hussein and Bill Clinton meet up in Baghdad for the first round of talks in a new peace process. When Bill sits down, he notices three buttons on the side of Saddam's chair. They begin talking.

After about five minutes Saddam presses the first button. A boxing glove springs out of a box on the desk and punches Clinton in the face. Confused, Clinton carries on talking as Saddam laughs. A few minutes later the second button is pressed. This time a big boot comes out and kicks Clinton in the shin. Again Saddam laughs, and again Clinton carries on talking, not wanting to put off the bigger issue of peace between the two countries. But when the third button is pressed and another boot comes out and kicks Clinton in the privates, he's finally had enough, knowing that he can't do much without them functioning well.

"I'm going back home!" he tells the Iraqi. "We'll finish these talks in two weeks!"

A fortnight passes and Saddam flies to the United States for talks. As the two men sit down, Hussein notices three buttons on Clinton's chair and prepares himself for the Yank's revenge.

They begin talking and Bill presses the first button. Saddam ducks, but nothing happens. Clinton snickers. A few seconds later he presses the second button. Saddam jumps up, but again nothing happens. Clinton roars with laughter. When the third button is pressed, Saddam jumps up again, and again nothing happens. Clinton falls on the floor in a fit of hysterics.

"Forget this," says Saddam. "I'm going back to Baghdad!"

Clinton says, through tears of laughter, "What Baghdad?"

A priest sent this one to me. So don't blame me!

Jesus, Moses and an old man are out playing golf.

Moses tees up, takes a big swing at the ball. The ball goes soaring straight towards this pond and splashes right in it. Moses walks up to the pond, holds his arms up with the club in his left hand and parts the water. Moses walks to his ball and plays on.

Jesus then tees up. He takes a big swing at the ball and it goes straight for the pond it and "splash!" it lands. Jesus walks up to the pond, looks around and then starts walking on the water to where the ball rests and plays on.

The old man then tees up. He takes a big swing at the ball and lo and behold it too heads straight for the pond. Just before the ball is to make its entry into the water, a large fish jumps out of the water and catches the ball in its mouth. Just then, an eagle is soaring overhead and the eagle dives toward the pond and snatches the fish with its claws. The eagle is then flying away with the fish that has this golf ball in its mouth when a bolt of lightening streaks past the eagle. Being startled, the eagle drops the fish. The fish goes falling towards the earth. When the fish hits the ground, the golf ball naturally bounces out of the fish's mouth, takes a couple of bounces and then rolls into the cup for a hole-in-one.

Jesus says, "Dad, if you're not going to play fair, we won't play with you anymore!"

Four catholic ladies were having coffee.

The first catholic woman tells her friends, "My son is a priest. When he walks into a room, everyone calls him 'Father'."
The second catholic woman chirps, "My son is a bishop. Whenever he walks into a room, people call him 'Your Grace'."
The third catholic crone says "My son is a cardinal. Whenever he walks in a room, he's called 'Your Eminence'."
As the fourth catholic woman sat there sipping her coffee in silence, the first three women gave her a subtle "Well..?" So she replied, "My son is 6' 7"... he has plenty of money...broad square shoulders...terribly handsome...dresses very well...tight muscular body...and whenever he walks into a room, women gasp, 'Oh, my God!'"

A mother-to-be lived way up in the hills and was afraid of hospitals, so the doctor agreed to go to her house at the time of delivery. The day came and the doctor went to her home to find the woman progressing beautifully with her labor. Her husband, however, was somewhat of a problem. He wanted to help so much that he kept getting in the way. Finally, the doctor handed him a lantern and said, "Please hold this lantern right here and hold it high so that I have good light. I really need to be able to see, so hold it high and don't move."

The husband did as instructed, glad to be of help. The woman delivered a beautiful baby girl. After she had held the baby for a moment, her husband started to lower the lantern so he, too, could hold the baby. "Wait," the doctor said. "Hold the lantern high. There's another baby here!" And, sure enough, a second baby girl was born.

Again the proud father started to lower the lantern, thinking that his job was done. Again the doctor, looking closely at his patient, said, "Wait, don't put the lantern down! Hold it high. I can't believe this, but I think there's another one!"

To which the husband responded, "Um, Doc ... do you think it's the light that's attracting them?"

One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip...

And Joseph went up from Galilee to Bethlehem with Mary, his espoused wife, who was great with child. And she brought forth a son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.
And the angel of the Lord spoke to the shepherds and said, "I bring you tidings of great joy. Unto you is born a Savior, which is Christ the Lord."

"There's a problem with the angel," said a Pharisee who happened to be strolling by.
As he explained to Joseph, angels are widely regarded as religious symbols, and the stable was on public property where such symbols were not allowed to land or even hover. "And I have to tell you, this whole thing looks to me very much like a Nativity scene," he said sadly. "That's a no-no, too."

Joseph had a bright idea.
"What if I put a couple of reindeer over there near the ox and ass?" he said, eager to avoid sectarian strife.

"That would definitely help," said the Pharisee, who knew as well as anyone that whenever a savior appeared, judges usually liked to be on the safe side and surround it with deer or woodland creatures of some sort.

"Just to clinch it, throw in a candy cane and a couple of elves and snowmen, too," he said. "No court can resist that."

Mary asked, "What does my son's birth have to do with snowmen?"
"Snowpersons," cried a young woman, changing the subject before it veered dangerously toward religion.

Off to the side of the crowd, a Philistine was painting the Nativity scene. Mary complained that she and Joseph looked too tattered and worn in the picture.
"Artistic license," he said. "I've got to show the plight of the haggard homeless in a greedy, uncaring society in winter," he quipped.
"We're not haggard or homeless. The inn was just full," said Mary.
"Whatever," said the painter.

Two women began to argue fiercely. One said she objected to Jesus' birth "because it privileged motherhood." The other scoffed at virgin births, but said that if they encouraged more attention to diversity in family forms and the rights of single mothers, well, then, she was all for them.
"I'm not a single mother," Mary started to say, but she was cut off by a third woman who insisted that swaddling clothes are a form of child abuse, since they restrict the natural movement of babies.

With the arrival of 10 child advocates, all trained to spot infant abuse and manger rash, Mary and Joseph were pushed to the edge of the crowd, where arguments were breaking out over how many reindeer (or what mix of reindeer and seasonal sprites) had to be installed to compensate for the infant's unfortunate religious character.

An older man bustled up, bowling over two merchants, who had been busy debating whether an elf is the same as a fairy and whether the elf/fairy should be shaking hands with Jesus in the crib or merely standing to the side, jumping around like a sports mascot.
"I'd hold off on the reindeer," the man said, explaining that the use of asses and oxen as picturesque backdrops for Nativity scenes carries the subliminal message of human dominance. He passed out two leaflets, one denouncing manger births as invasions of animal space, the other arguing that stables are "penned environments" where animals are incarcerated against their will. He had no opinion about elves or candy canes.

Signs declaring "Free the Bethlehem 2" began to appear, referring to the obviously exploited ass and ox.
Someone said the halo on Jesus' head was elitist.

Mary was exasperated. "And what about you, old mother?" she said sharply to an elderly woman. "Are you here to attack the shepherds as prison guards for excluded species, maybe to complain that singing in Latin identifies us with our Roman oppressors, or just to say that I should have skipped patriarchal religiosity and joined some dumb new-age goddess religion?"
"None of the above," said the woman, "I just wanted to tell you that the Magi are here."

Sure enough, the three wise men rode up.
The crowd gasped, "They're all male!" And "Not very multicultural!"
"Balthasar here is black," said one of the Magi.
"Yes, but how many of you are gay or disabled?" someone shouted.
A committee was quickly formed to find an impoverished lesbian wise-person among the halt and lame of Bethlehem.

A calm voice said, "Be of good cheer, Mary, you have done well and your son will change the world."
At last, a sane person, Mary thought. She turned to see a radiant and confident female face.
The woman spoke again: "There is one thing, though. Religious holidays are important, but can't we learn to celebrate them in ways that unite, not divide? For instance, instead of all this business about 'Gloria in excelsis Deo,' why not just 'Season's Greetings'?"
Mary said, "You mean my son has entered human history to deliver the message, 'Hello, it's winter'?"
"That's harsh, Mary," said the woman. "Remember, your son could make it big in midwinter festivals, if he doesn't push the religion thing too far. Centuries from now, in nations yet unborn, people will give each other pricey gifts and have big office parties on his birthday. That's not chopped liver."

"Let me get back to you," Mary said.

A newlywed farmer and his wife were visited by her mother, who immediately demanded an inspection of the place.

The Farmer had genuinely tried to be friendly to his new mother-in-law, hoping that it could be a friendly, non-antagonistic relationship.

To no avail, she kept nagging them at every opportunity, demanding changes, offering unwanted advice and making life unbearable to the farmer and his new bride.

While they were walking through the barn, the farmer's mule suddenly reared up and kicked the mother-in-law in the head, killing her instantly!

At the funeral service a few days later, the farmer stood near the casket and greeted folks as they walked by.

The pastor noticed that whenever a woman would whisper something to the farmer, he would nod his head 'yes' and say something.

Whenever a man walked by and whispered to the farmer, however, he would shake his head, no and mumble a reply.

Very curious as to this bizarre behavior, the pastor later asked the farmer what that was all about.

The farmer replied, "The women would say, 'What a terrible tragedy' and I would nod my head and say, 'Yes, it was.'

The men would ask, 'Can I borrow that mule?' and I would shake my head and say, 'Can't. It's all booked up for a year.'

* Why isn't phonetic spelled the way it sounds?

* Why are there interstate highways in Hawaii?

* Why are there flotation devices under plane seats instead of parachutes?

* Why are cigarettes sold in gas stations when smoking is prohibited there?

* Why do fat chance and slim chance mean the same thing?

1. If I like it, it's mine.
2. If it's in my hand, it's mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it's mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.
5. If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I'm doing or building something, all the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks just like mine, it's mine.
8. If I think it's mine, it's mine.
9. If I...

Oops! I'm sorry ... I goofed! Instead of typing in the Toddler Property Laws, I've been typing in Bill Gates' Primary Business Plan.

You wanted to be on Star Search.

You remember what Michael Jackson looked like before his nose fell off.

You wore a banana clip at some point during your youth.

You knew what Willis was "talkin' 'bout".

You HAD to have your MTV.

You know the profound meaning of "Wax on, Wax off".

There's more!

1967 Math: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of this price or $80. What is his profit?

1977 Math (New Math): A logger exchanges a set L of lumber for a set M of Money. The cardinality of set M is 100 and each element is worth $1. Make a square array of 100 dots to represent the elements of set M. The set C is the cost of production and contains 20 fewer elements than set M. Represent set C as a subset of M and answer the following question. What is the cardinality of set P of profits?

1987 Math: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Circle the number $20.

1997 Math: By cutting down beautiful forest trees, an environmentally ignorant logger makes a profit of $20. What do you think about his way of making a living? In your group, use role playing to determine how the forest birds and squirrels feel.

And the Lord spoke to Noah and said, "In six months I'm going to make it rain until the whole earth is covered with water and all the evil people are destroyed. But, I want to save a few good people, and two of every kind of living thing on the planet. I am commanding you to build an Ark."
And in a flash of lightning, God delivered the specifications for an Ark.
"Okay." said Noah, trembling with fear and fumbling with the blueprints.
"Six months, and it starts to rain," thundered the Lord. "You'd better have the Ark completed, or learn to swim for a very long time!"

Six months passed, the skies clouded up and rain began to fall. The Lord saw that Noah was sitting in his front yard, weeping, and there was no Ark.
"Noah," shouted the Lord, "Where is the Ark?"

A long silence was broken at last by a shaken little voice saying, "The big sissy!"

Good question! I belong to two e-mail subscription groups: Catholic Mothers on the Internet, and SinPar (for Single Parents). As anyone who has been online for any time knows, jokes are the number one source of e-mails, except for spam, of course. But, I also subscribe to two joke subscriptions, Laugh-A-Lot, and The Good Clean Funnies Lista. And of course, I have the usual circle of friends who send things to me: Karen, Sr. Stella, Dan, and Fr. Mosimann. Life is sweet!