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sman

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What To Give An Optimist And A

Pessimist

-----------------

A family had twin boys whose only

resemblance to each other was their

looks. If one felt it was too hot, the

other thought it was too cold. If one

said the TV was too loud, the other

claimed the volume needed to be turned

up. Opposite in every way, one was an

eternal optimist, the other a doom and

gloom pessimist.

Just to see what would happen, at

Christmas time their father loaded the

pessimist's room with every imaginable

toy and game. The optimist's room he

loaded with horse manure.

That night the father passed by the

pessimist's room and found him sitting

amid his new gifts crying bitterly.

"Why are you crying?" the father asked.

"Because my friends will be jealous,

I'll have to read all these

instructions before I can do anything

with this stuff, I'll constantly need

batteries, and my toys will eventually

get broken." answered the pessimist

twin.

Passing the optimist twin's room, the

father found him dancing for joy in the

pile of manure. "What are you so happy

about?" he asked.

To which his optimist twin replied,

"There's got to be a pony in here

somewhere!"



A Letter To Santa From Mom

------------------------

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've

fed, cleaned and cuddled my two

children on demand, visited the

doctor's office more than my doctor,

sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to

raise money to plant a shade tree on

the school playground and figured out

how to attach nine patches onto my

daughter's girl scout sash with staples

and a glue gun.

I was hoping you could spread my list

out over several Christmases, since I

had to write this letter with my son's

red crayon, on the back of a receipt in

the laundry room between cycles, and

who knows when I'll find anymore free

time in the next 18 years.

Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache

after a day of chasing kids (in any

color, except purple, which I already

have) and arms that don't flap in the

breeze but are strong enough to carry a

screaming toddler out of the candy

aisle in the grocery store. I'd also

like a waist, since I lost mine

somewhere in the seventh month of my

last pregnancy. If you're hauling big

ticket items this year I'd like a car

with fingerprint resistant windows and

a radio that only plays adult music; a

television that doesn't broadcast any

programs containing talking animals;

and a refrigerator with a secret

compartment behind the crisper where I

can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a

talking daughter doll that says, "Yes,

Mommy" to boost my parental confidence,

along with one potty-trained toddler,

two kids who don't fight and three

pairs of jeans that will zip all the

way up without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan

monks chanting, "Don't eat in the

living room" and 'Take your hands off

your brother,' because my voice seems

to be just out of my children's hearing

range and can only be heard by the dog.

And please don't forget the Playdoh

Travel Pack, the hottest stocking

stuffer this year for mothers of

preschoolers. It comes in three

fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to

crumble on any carpet making the in-

laws' house seem just like mine. If

it's too late to find any of these

products, I'd settle for enough time to

brush my teeth and comb my hair in the

same morning, or the luxury of eating

food warmer than room temperature

without it being served in a Styrofoam

container. If you don't mind I could

also use a few Christmas miracles to

brighten the holiday season. Would it

be too much trouble to declare ketchup

a vegetable? It will clear my

conscience immensely. It would be

helpful if you could coerce my children

to help around the house without

demanding payment as if they were the

bosses of an organized crime family; or

if my toddler didn't look so cute

sneaking downstairs to eat contraband

ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is

ringing and my son saw my feet under

the laundry room door. I think he wants

his crayon back. Have a safe trip and

remember to leave your wet boots by the

chimney and come in and dry off by the

fire so you don't catch a cold. Help

yourself to cookies on the table but

don't eat too many or leave crumbs on

the carpet.

Yours Always...Mom.

P.S. - One more thing... you can cancel

all my requests if you can keep my

children young enough to believe in

Santa.



Buy Your Own Gift

----------------------

Last Christmas, grandpa was feeling his

age, and found that shopping for

Christmas gifts had become too

difficult. So he decided to send checks

to everyone instead.

In each card he wrote, "Buy your own

present!" and mailed them early.

He enjoyed the usual flurry of family

festivities, and it was only after the

holiday that he noticed that he had

received very few cards in return.

Puzzled over this, he went into his

study, intending to write a couple of

his relatives and ask what had

happened. It was then, as he cleared

off his cluttered desk that he got his

answer. Under a stack of papers, he was

horrified to find the gift checks which

he had forgotten to enclose with the

cards.

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