Category Archives: humor blog

Have Your Soup and Eat Their Soup Too

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“This soup is really not what I ordered,” I say aloud.

“Oh, that’s my soup,” says Judi, fellow Compassion sponsor and muy buena amiga (aka Audrey Hepburn in a previous blog).

Judi adds with a smile, “That’s okay. You can have my soup.”

We probably sat at one of these tables.

I’m in Mexico, seated outside at a sidewalk café. It’s our last day in Oaxaca and I sit with many of my fellow Compassion sponsors. Nineteen of us have gathered from all over the U.S. for a week-long tour in Oaxaca, which includes a day with the child we sponsor through Compassion International. Our week together is about to come to a close. read more

My Beloved Slippers (sob, snivel, snurp)

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I had no idea of the anguish ahead of me. After all, the room had a beguiling allure of happy color and Mexican art with a beautifully tiled bathroom.

The bathroom had color but no hot water.

But my room on the second floor of the Hotel Trébol in Oaxaca City had a flaw. It didn’t have hot water.

Our Compassion Mexico Sponsor Tour stayed in several hotels while traveling in Oaxaca and its outskirts in January of this year. After staying two nights, we left the Hotel Trébol for other hotels, with plans to return for our final three nights. As soon as we checked back in at the Trébol, I requested a different room. read more

I’m in my pajamas and it’s after midnight (and life goes haywire)

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“I think I need to go to the hospital,” Jerry says to me. “I’m having chest pains and they’re not going away.”

I’m in my pajamas and it’s after midnight. I had stayed up to read my book (When A Crocodile Eats the Sun).

I go down the list of heart attack symptoms. “Does it feel like an elephant is stepping on your chest?”

“No,” he says, “it’s periodic stabbing pain that comes and goes.”

“Trouble breathing? Pain radiating down your arm?”

“No, but my breathing is shallow when I have the stabbing pain….Ohhhhhyeeech, there’s another one.” Jerry puts his hand over his heart. I suggest calling 911. “No, just drive me,” he insists. I throw on some sweat pants and grab my keys. read more

My Bed Traumatized Me

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I thought the list “Things to Do Every Day” might improve my life. I found it in an article online and copied it down. First on the list: “Make the bed. If you do it first thing, you start with a win.”

This completely contradicts what I heard at a writer’s workshop. The leader said, “Make time to write. Don’t make the bed. Use that time to write. Who cares if your bed is made?”

I wanted more time to write. Yahoo. I would stop making the bed.

Yet, the idea of not making the bed bothered me. I had made the bed every day since my childhood. But Jerry didn’t seem to mind the bed in a chaotic upheaval of bedraggled blankets. Actually, the cats loved the explosion of sheets and blankets and nestled in it. read more

Thanksgiving Divorce

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A man in Phoenix calls his son in New York the day before Thanksgiving and says,”I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough.”

“Pop, what are you talking about?” the son screams.

“We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the father says. “We’re sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her.” read more