Several years ago, I returned home from a trip just when a storm hit, with crashing thunder and severe lightning. As I came into my bedroom about 2 a.m., I found my two children in bed with my wife, Karen, apparently scared by the loud storm. I resigned myself to sleeping in the guest bedroom that night.
The next day, I talked to the children, and explained that it was O.K. to sleep with Mom when the storm was bad, but when I was expected home, please don’t sleep with Mom that night. They said O.K.
After my next trip several weeks later, Karen and the children picked me up in the terminal at the appointed time. Since the plane was late, everyone had come into the terminal to wait for my plane’s arrival, along with hundreds of other folks waiting for their arriving passengers. As I entered the waiting area, my son saw me, and came running shouting,
"Hi, Dad! I’ve got some good news!" As I waved back, I said loudly, "What is the good news?"
"The good news is that nobody slept with Mommy while you were away this time!" Alex shouted. The airport became very quiet, as everyone in the waiting area looked at Alex, then turned to me, and then searched the rest of the area to see if they could figure out exactly who his Mom was.
Her mother replied, "Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white." The little girl thought about this revelation for a while, and then said, "Momma, how come *all* of grandma’s hairs are white?"
The little girl thought about it for a few moments and asked, "If I can find a smooth one, can I play with him?"
"If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the yard, and kept everything neat and tidy, would I get into Heaven?"
Again, the answer was,"No!"
"Well, I continued, "then how can I get into Heaven?"
A five-year-old boy shouted out, "You gotta be dead!"
"Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep wittle wabbits?"
And the shopkeeper bends way down and puts his hands on his knees so that he’s on her level, and asks, "Do you want a wittle white wabby or a soft and fuwwy bwack wabby? Or maybe one like that cute wittle bwown wabby over there?"
She in turn puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet little voice,
"I don’t fink my pyfon weally cares."