Late last week, I was rushing around trying to get some last minute shopping done.

I was stressed out and not thinking very fondly of the Christmas season right then. It was dark, cold, and wet in the parking lot as I was loading my car up with gifts that I felt obligated to buy. I noticed that I was missing a receipt that I might need later. So mumbling under my breath, I retraced my steps to the mall entrance.

As I was searching the wet pavement for the lost receipt, I heard a quiet sobbing. The crying was coming from a poorly dressed boy of about 12 years old.

He was short and thin. He had no coat. He was just wearing a ragged flannel shirt to protect him from the cold night's chill.

Oddly enough, he was holding a hundred dollar bill in his hand. Thinking that he had gotten lost from his parents, I asked him what was wrong. He told me his sad story. He said that he came from a large family. He had three brothers and four sisters. His father had died when he was nine years old. His mother was poorly educated and worked two full time jobs. She made very little to support her large family.

Nevertheless, she had managed to skimp and save two hundred dollars to buy her children Christmas presents. The young boy had been dropped off, by his mother, on the way to her second job. He was to use the money to buy presents for all his siblings and save just enough to take the bus home. He had not even entered the mall, when an older boy grabbed one of the hundred dollar bills and disappeared into the night.

"Why didn't you scream for help?" I asked.

The boy said, "I did."

"And nobody came to help you?" I wondered.

The boy stared at the sidewalk and sadly shook his head.

"How loud did you scream?" I inquired.

The soft-spoken boy looked up and meekly whispered, "Help me!"

I realized that absolutely no one could have heard that poor boy cry for help. So I grabbed his other hundred and ran to my car.

A young honeymoon couple were touring southern Florida and happened to stop at one of the rattlesnake farms along the road. After seeing the sights, they engaged in small talk with the man that handled the snakes.

"Gosh!" exclaimed the new bride. "You certainly have a dangerous job. Don't you ever get bitten by the snakes?"

"Yes, upon rare occasions," answered the handler.

"Well," she continued, "just what do you do when you're bitten by a snake?"

"I always carry a razor-sharp knife in my pocket, and as soon as I am bitten, I make deep criss-cross marks across the fang entry and then suck the poison from the wound."

"What, uh... what would happen if you were to accidentally *sit* on a rattler?" persisted the woman.

"Ma'am," answered the snake handler, "that will be the day I learn who my real friends are."

Morris the matchmaker approached a single woman and told her he had a husband for her. "I'm ashamed to bring this up," he said, "but the man wants to be sure you are compatible in bed. He wants, he says, a sample."

The woman was shocked. "Such a thing you ask an orthodox virtuous woman?

Such a crude person would suggest such a thing? He must be a barnyard animal, not a gentleman. "

The matchmaker, (trying to earn a fee), Morris said, "He's a business man.

He buys goods in the market and he sells goods. By him, it's not a big deal...just a sample."

She thought a minute. "He's a business man? So tell him I don't give samples. If he wants, I can give him 50 or 60 references."

One day the teacher asked the children in class to give examples of what was not good to put in one's mouth.

Little Johnny says "It is not good to put a lit light bulb in one's mouth."

The teacher says "That is correct, but why?"

Little Johnny answers "I don't know, but my Mom always tells my dad "turn off the light before you put it in my mouth!"

On their wedding night the husband was so self-conscious about the smallness of his penis that before undressing, he snapped off the light. Once he was in bed, he unzipped his pants and handed his member to his bride.

"That's thoughtful, darling," she cooed, "but we'll need the light if you want to write thank-you notes."

Let’s not forget Wacko-Jacko….

At my granddaughter's wedding, the DJ polled the guests to see who had been married longest. It turned out to be my husband and I. The DJ asked us, "What advice would you give to the newly-married couple?"

I said, "The three most important words in a marriage are, 'You're probably right.'"

Everyone then looked at my husband. He said, "She's probably right."