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Marty's Joke of the Day

Marty's Joke of the day is an internet column that I've written for more than 5 years.
I tell humorous stories about my "sweet wife" and raising our 4 young sons, named #1, #2, #3, and #4.
After 5 years of story telling, in August of 2005, doctors found a brain tumor in son #4.
Our focus here has changed little as we still try to find humor in our lives.

Monday, July 03, 2006

7/3 - Star Wars Smoke Bombs

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Monday, July 03, 2006
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(Conversation on the phone from work;)

RING RING...

[timid little boy voice]: “hello?”

[me]; “HI, WHO’S THIS?” (Knowing full well who I was talking to.)

[#4]; “DAAAAD!!!”

[me]; “No, you’re not dad, I’m dad. Who are you?”

[#4]; “DAAAAD!!! It’s DAD!”

[me]; “Hi little one...”

[#4]; “Guess what dad? We just smoked a bunch of smoke bombs!”

[me]; “You WHAT?”

[#4]; “Yeah, me’n Son #3 got a package of smoke bombs and smoked
‘em all gone!”

[me]; “Oh, ok...”

I’m glad he wasn’t 13 when we had this conversation...


(Conversation at work with a co-worker)

[she]; “Hey, how’d you get your black eye?”

[me]; “When you have a ‘visually impaired’ little boy, who is
totally blind in one eye, and can’t see out of the other eye, has
no peripheral vision, and zero dept perception, and loves guns and
light sabers, don’t trade him weapons.”

[she]; “oh?”

[me]; “I was ‘fencing’ with him and I had the long (PVC pipe)
light saber, and he had the short, curved, antiqued (dollar store)
pirate sword. I was getting the better of him, and he said ‘Let’s
trade!’ So like a good sport, I did. On the second swing, he
caught me with the blunt end of the PVC pipe and cut me just above
and just below my left eye, and gave me a (relatively small)
shiner to boot.”

[she]; “HA! Now THAT’S funny!”

(yeah, again, I’m glad he wasn’t 13 when we had this battle



Enjoy today’s Jokes!
Marty

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A man and his wife were lying in bed the other night when he
noticed she had bought a new book entitled, "What 20 Million
American Women Want." He grabbed the book out of her hands and
started thumbing through the pages. His wife was a little annoyed.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" He calmly replied, "I just
wanted to see if they spelled my name right."

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I was recently talking with a blonde friend who bemoaned her
family's lack of holiday rituals. "My family doesn't have any
traditions," she complained. "We just do the same thing year after
year after year."

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I'd had a pretty hectic day with my four-year-old. When bed-time
finally came, I laid down the law: "We're putting on your p.j.s,
brushing your teeth, and reading ONE book. Then it's lights
out!" Her arms went around my neck in a gentle embrace, and she
said, "We learned in Sunday school about little boys and girls who
don't have mommies and daddies." Even after I'd been such a
grouch, I thought, she was still grateful to have me. I felt tears
begin to well up in my eyes, and then she whispered, "Maybe you
could go be THEIR mom?"

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