Friday Funny(s)

Just a couple stories from my past. One funny, one... awwww...

Which do you want first? Funny or Awww??

Okay, aww first. If you've ready my treatise on my life, you know that I was raised the only child of a single mom. She was WAY too busy, and I spent way too much time alone. But she SO rocked on making me feel special. I could tell you about a million stories, but I was reminded of this one this morning so I am going to share it with you.

My freshman year of college, my mom got into the habit of sending me cookies once a month. They were usually themed for whatever holiday was that month, and she always sent enough for me to share with all the girls on my floor. This particular month was one that didn't really have a screamingly obvious "cookie holiday" (which makes me think it must have been January... MLK cookie cutters not being the easier to find in central Minnesota). So she calls and informs me that this time there were chocolate chip cookies, and that because of her needing to take some cookies to work, there would probably only be one left for me after I distributed them to my fellow floor-mates. Now, for a moment I was a little off-put, I mean... jeez mom... one cookie for me?? Then I pondered NOT sharing them but the girls had come to expect their cookies, and one doesn't mess with people who could easily take ones robe from the shower room while one is in the shower. So, the cookies arrived in a nice cookie tin, and being the obedient daughter I am (shut up... I was sometimes...) I went about the hall - room to room - cookie to cookie. I got to the last room, and looked in the tin. 2 girls... 2 cookies. Mom had miscounted, and I was about to get NO cookies. I plastered the smile on my face, handed out the two cookies, and walked, quite dejectedly, back to my room. (Dead cookie walking!!!!) As I plodded along, I gazed into the tin... the few crumbs setting on the wax paper my mom had used to line the tin. Hmmm... something seemed odd. The inside of the tin didn't seem as deep as the outside. Curious, I pulled away the wax paper. There, at the bottom of the tin, was a cookie. The SIZE of the entire cookie tin. LOL - Mom hadn't lied, nor disappointed. She so rocks.

Ok - now the funny.

A couple years after college, my friend Trish and I moved into an apartment. It was an AWESOME apartment. 2 bedroom, 2 bath, top floor, 18 foot vaulted ceiling in the living room. Sweet apartment. Being the metropolitan girls that we were, we decided to subscribe to the Minneapolis Star Tribune so that we could keep up with world events and local politics. Ok, it was for the comics and the Targ*t ad on Sundays... I admit it. So every morning about 5 am there would be a thunk on the door, and I know know the paper had been safely delivered (because my room was about 3 feet from the door). I would usually be the one to bring it in, and peruse it a bit before I got ready for the day. SUNDAY mornings we would bring it in, sit next to each other on the couch and pass the ads back and forth, oohing and ahhing and generally coveting pretty much everything we saw. (At that point Wal-Ma*t had not yet infiltrated the North) Then, one Sunday, I opened the door to begin our newspaper ritual, and the paper wasn't there! I assumed we had been missed, so I contacted the newspaper people and they promised that someone would deliver one in the next few hours. They did. Thank you. Then the following Sunday, it happened again. And the Sunday after that. Finally the fourth Sunday I set my alarm for 4:30, and laid there after awaking. Sure enough, I heard the thump, the paper had been delivered. When I went out around 7 to get it - it was gone. There was a thief in our midst. Suddenly EVERY neighbor was a suspect. Was it the emphysemic elderly man across the hall who still managed to smell like an ash tray? Was it the little family in 305 whose kids rode their big wheels up and down the hallway? I suspiciously eyed each one during the week. And as I eyed, I plotted. Sunday morning, I set my alarm again, awaiting the thump. It came, I opened the door a crack, and slipped the paper inside (Oh - important part here - the paper was always wrapped in a little plastic bag). I removed the Sunday paper from it's casing, then turned to the unread Saturday paper. Strolling to my bathroom, I grabbed a nice big bottle of baby powder, and returned to the papers. I opened up section after section of the Saturday paper, filling each with powder. Front section, Metro, Arts, Auto, Classifieds, Sports... each one filled with powder. I then put the Saturday paper back together, rolled it up, put it in the Sunday wrapped, and placed it back outside the door.

No one Ever.Took.Our.Paper. Again.