People sometimes wonder where I got my sense of humour from.
Actually, people sometimes just wonder about me in general. Oh well.
I’m going to come right and say it’s all my parents’ fault.
Mostly my dad’s to be honest. He’s 77
years old this year, going on twelve. He’ll still deny stealing a fresh baked
cookie, even when he has chocolate on his face and crumbs on his shirt. That’s
consistency!
From my Mom, I received the gift of appreciating the humour
in family situations. Many a day went by when I’d find Mom sitting in the
kitchen or living room, giggling quietly to herself because the dog wore his
food bowl as a hat or the cat tried to catch a butterfly through a screen
window. Maybe it was just from watching us kids get ready for school.