Here is the second part of some Christmas laughter with some contributions from social media.
A family had twin boys whose only resemblance to each other was their looks. Opposite in every way, one was an eternal optimist, the other a doom and gloom pessimist.
Just to see what would happen, on Christmas day their father loaded the pessimist’s room with every imaginable toy and game. The optimist’s room he loaded with horse manure.
That night the father passed by the pessimist’s room and found him sitting amid his new gifts crying bitterly.
“Why are you crying?” the father asked.
“Because my friends will be jealous, I’ll have to read all these instructions before I can do anything with this stuff, I’ll constantly need batteries, and my toys will eventually get broken.” answered the pessimist twin.
Passing the optimist twin’s room, the father found him dancing for joy in the pile of manure. “What are you so happy about?” he asked.
To which his optimist twin replied, “There’s got to be a pony in here somewhere!”
Saint Nicholas is the main Clause.
His wife is a relative Clause.
His children are dependent Clauses.
Their Dutch uncle is a restrictive Clause.
Santa’s elves are subordinate Clauses.
It was Christmas Eve. A poor old lady was sitting alone, except for her cat, in her tiny house, in front of a small fire. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and the old woman’s good fairy appeared in the room. The old woman was astonished, but the fairy reassured her: “Don’t be afraid! I am your good fairy. You are very poor, and all alone at Christmas, so I have come to grant you three wishes, to cheer you up.”
The old woman was about to speak, but the fairy held up her hand. “Wait!” she said. “Before you make a wish, think carefully! You will get exactly what you wish for, and no wish can be undone!” So the old woman sat silently, staring at the fire and thinking.
Eventually, she spoke: “First”, she said, “I want to be very, very wealthy.” Poof! Immediately, the tiny house was packed with pots full of gold coins, and sacks of bank-notes. There was more money than anyone could spend in an entire lifetime. The old woman looked around and smiled. She thought some more, and spoke again: “Next”, she said, “I want to be young and beautiful again, like I was when I was 18.” Poof!
The old woman disappeared. In her place sat a beautiful young woman, with smooth, white skin and long, golden hair. The woman looked at her hands and arms, felt her hair, and smiled. “Third”, she said to the fairy, “I want you to change my cat into a handsome young prince, who will love me and take care of me all my life!”
Poof! The fairy disappeared, and the cat leapt up from his place by the fire as a handsome young prince. He reached out to the woman, pulled her to her feet, embraced her, and kissed her passionately. Then he gazed into her eyes and said: “Hah! Now you’re really going to be sorry that you took me to the vet!”
One day in early September the chief of a Native American tribe was asked by his tribal elders if the winter of 2011/12 was going to be cold or mild. The chief asked his medicine man, but he too had lost touch with the reading signs from the natural world around the Great Lakes.
In truth, neither of them had idea about how to predict the coming winter. However, the chief decided to take a modern approach, and the chief rang the National Weather Service in Gaylord Michigan.
‘Yes, it is going to be a cold winter,’ the meteorological officer told the chief. Consequently, he went back to his tribe and told the men to collect plenty of firewood.
A fortnight later the chief called the Weather Service and asked for an update. ‘Are you still forecasting a cold winter?’ he asked.
‘Yes, very cold’, the weather officer told him.
As a result of this brief conversation the chief went back to the tribe and told his people to collect every bit of wood they could find.
A month later the chief called the National Weather Service once more and asked about the coming winter. ‘Yes,’ he was told, ‘it is going to be one of the coldest winters ever.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ the chief asked.
The weatherman replied: ‘Because the Native Americans of the Great Lakes are collecting wood like crazy.’
Thanks for dropping in today and I hope you enjoyed the stories… feel free to pass them on.. Sally