I can't think of anything stupendous to write about, so I'm going to tell you about what happened last Saturday on the sidelines of my grandson’s soccer game.
My co-grandparents and I stood there cheering until Bill Martin, known to all the grandkids as Paw-Paw, said he had to ask me a question. “Sure,” I said. He glanced apologetically at his wife and asked, “Do bees poop?”
Now, this was a logical question coming from someone who is a family doctor (intestinal information fascinates docs) and also from someone who doesn’t read my blog. He came from the hospital to the soccer game. He’s always caring for a patient. He founded (and is the head doc at) the Hope Clinic in Lawrenceville. How could he possibly find time to read blog posts?
So, he didn’t know about my blog entry #86 (January 6, 2011) where I explain about cleansing flights. If you missed that one, you might want to look it up.
At any rate, we stood there making bee-poop jokes and missed the last three goals of the game. As the final whistle blew, I said, “Whoops! We haven’t been watching!”—at which point Bill said, “Guess you’ll give us all a stinging reprimand.”
It went on from there, but I'll save the rest of the puns for another--when I can remember what they were. The good thing about not recalling punchlines is that every joke I hear seems brand new to me, since I can't remember what's coming.
BEEattitude for Day # 163:
Blessed are the grandparents, for they shall have grand-fun in life.
One thing Fran is grateful for right now:
The morning glory I planted next to Faye, who grows near the corner of my deck. Yes, of course I name my trees.