A funny story

Why Parents Drink

The boss wondered why one of his most valued employees was absent but had not phoned in sick one day. Needing to have an urgent problem with one of the main computers resolved, he dialed the employee's home phone number and was greeted with a child's whisper. ' Hello?'

'Is your daddy home?' he asked.

' Yes,' whispered the small voice.
May I talk with him?'

The child whispered, 'No '

Surprised and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, 'Is your Mummy there?' 'Yes'
'May I talk with her?' Again the small voice whispered, 'No'

Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, 'Is anybody else there?'

'Yes , ' whispered the child, 'a policeman  '

Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss asked, 'May I speak with the policeman?'

'No, he's busy' whispered the child.

'Busy doing what?'

'Talking to Daddy and Mummy and the Fireman' came the whispered answer..

Growing more worried as he heard a loud noise in the background through the earpiece on the phone, the boss asked, 'What is that noise?'

'A helicopter' answered the whispering voice.

'What is going on there?' demanded the boss, now truly apprehensive.Again, whispering, the child answered,

' The search team just landed a helicopter'

Alarmed, concerned and a little frustrated the boss asked, 'What are they searching for?'

Still whispering, the young voice repliedwith a muffled giggle...

'ME'

Italian Cookies

For all the Italians out there or those who are lucky enough to be married to an Italian, or even to be friends of Italians.

An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite Italian anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs. Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.

With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death’s agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man? Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted, the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.

The aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.....“Don’t touch!” she said, “They’re for the funeral!"