My Little Orphaned Rubber Ducky…I didn’t mean to do it…

OK, before I tell this story, I am not proud of what I did, and it is an accident that still haunts me to this day.

However, it also brought me one of the best laughs I ever had a few weeks later. Plus I became the proud parent of an Orphaned Rubber Ducky…

About 10 years ago I was out with a large group of co-workers for a “day of adventure”. We were playing golf up in Washington  where our Divisional headquarters were. This golf course had several ponds weaved in between the many holes. (some of you are all ready ahead of me on what happened – shhh, don’t spoil it for others).

At the time, I was still pretty new to playing golf but I had a great tee shot and normally can hit a ball pretty far down the fairway. We pull up to tee off around hole 9. Down the fairway was one of these ponds. I tee up my ball, eye my destination and take a pretty good whack at the little white ball of death. Unfortunately I must have sliced it off a little bit. In typical fashion the ball traveled very far but unfortunately curved right into the pond.

My foursome watched as the ball flew into the pond, skipped 2-3 times and then shot directly into the air sky high. We each then just looked at each other with a “what the…”

We then hopped into our carts to inspect the strange trajectory.

As we pull up we see what we think are little tiny web feet sticking out of the water flapping back and forth. OH NO!!! We immediately assess that the reason the ball flew in the air straight up was that it hit one of our little ducky friends that populated the pond.

At this point I’m sick to my stomach and I love animals, and even have a special fondness for ducks (I did a high school report on them too). Anyways, one of the guys I’m with, grabs a club and is trying from the edge of the pond to flip the duck back up right with his club. What was amazing about this was, this guy was like 6 foot tall, 300lbs easily and a rough around the edges kind of guy and too see him caring so much about this little furry friend was pretty cool.

As Eric continued to try and flip “ducky” we watched in horror as his little feet kept flapping until they slowly stopped one foot at a time. Our hearts sunk as we realized that he was “gone”.

If I wasn’t feeling bad enough, word spread quickly to the 30+ of us out there that I had “killed” a duck. Some of them felt bad with me, some thought it was funny, but most just wanted to tease me relentlessly about it. “Duck Killer” was just one of the new titles I was crowned.

Fast forward several weeks or months, I lost track of time……

My assistant at the time brought me a small box that had been delivered. I did the typically shaking of the box and looking at who it was from. It had no name on it other than mine and had a slight rattle.

And what was in the box? A small rubber ducky with a yellow post it note on it saying… “Have you seen my mommy?”

Like I’m sure you just did, I busted up laughing.

I still have this little orphaned duck. He sat on my desk with his note looking for his mommy for many years. He even traveled through three states I moved from. Today he resides in my home office. The note has since been lost, but his home with me has not. I provide him with good meals, lots of water, and the big metal goose I got from a Steven Covey seminar keeps watch over him when I am not home. He has not wanted for anything in the past 10+ years.

While the horror of the memory is still there even to this day, I can not help but smile and laugh over the whole thing. While I’m sure a co-worker(s) thought it would be funny as hell they actually helped me move on from the tragedy of the day. No one ever confessed who sent it, but a whole lot of them knew about it.

Every once in awhile someone brings it up. I tell a funny visual version of this story to my nephews and nieces using my arms as the victims legs. Sometimes we must find humor in the sad moments of our life. It is laughter afterall that keeps us going and helps us through things.

I love rubber duckies, and I love my orphaned rubber ducky most. And hopefully he and I gave you a a smile and a little laugh…

~~~ Till Laugh Again~~~  PS. Don’t forget to follow on Facebook for even more smiles and laughs!   Fan Page: Laughing At Everyday Life

What Is It About A Rubber Ducky?

So what is it about a Rubber Ducky that just makes me smile?

This is a giant Rubber Ducky that was in the parking lot next to my shop last summer. I loved to drive by and see him. He put a smile on my face the same way that the big giant gorilla that seems to be everywhere does for others.

But I love rubber duckies. I have one that sits on my printer at work with a crown on (why? I have no idea, I think some kid left it behind one time and it was cute). I have one that use to sit on my desk at work when I worked for Home Depot and no he resides in my office at home. But he is a special rubber ducky. And tomorrow, I will tell you a great story that goes along with him (yes, we will have a two parter – just like the Harry Potter or Twilight two parters only funnier since it is written by me for me)  😀

Back to Rubber Duckies….

I didn’t have a rubber ducky to play in the tub with, so I know my fascination isn’t about childhood memories. My mom would say it is cuz they are yellow and she thinks yellow hung the moon (sorry mom, but yellow only hung the sun).

But honestly, I just think it is cuz they are soooo darn cute and cuddly. And they make me smile. And afterall, it is all about what makes you smile deep inside that counts. And for me, it is Yellow Rubber Duckies.   I’m not afraid to admit it.  And if you were honest with yourself, I don’t think I’m alone!   (except my little sister who is deathly afraid of the color yellow – ROFL).

Tomorrow, I tell you the funny story of how an orphaned rubber ducky ended up in my care…..

~~~ Till Laugh Again~~~  PS. Don’t forget to follow on Facebook for even more smiles and laughs!   Fan Page: Laughing At Everyday Life


Have a 6 year old Tell You A Joke

Have you ever had an under 6 year old tell you a joke?

It goes something like this…

Why did the chicken drive up the street?  Uh Why?   Cuz his car was in the garage.    huhhhhh???

Then they fall on the floor laughing their butt off.

Their jokes consist of one half – part of a joke they heard and one half – mix in new parts. Then when they can’t recall the punchline they make one up on the fly. And normally it has nothing to do with the original part of the joke. But to them, it is the funniest thing they have ever heard.

Or worse, try doing a knock knock joke.

Knock KnockWho’s there?…. (looking around the room) ahh Couch….. Couch who?……Couch is in the front room!

Ahhh haaa haaaa and they are on floor rolling again…

And we start laughing or smiling as we are left scratching our head because while the joke was so bad, they make us smile because they think they just won Last Comic Standing.

So your mission is to find a laugh in the next 24 hours by asking a kid under age 6 to tell you a joke. The joke may not be funny, but the experience sure will!


~~~till we laugh again~~~




Why Do You Try My Patience?

Do you ever wonder if you have a big neon sign over your head saying “Try My Patience”?

I’m a pretty easy going individual and try not to let such a silly emotion like Anger rule my world. It’s such a useless emotion that solves nothing. But just because I choose to let most things roll off my back like a duck, doesn’t mean it is a sign of weakness like some people tend to take it for. It just means I refuse to cave into letting you piss me off.   😀

You see, anger is about letting you have power over me and no one has power over me. I have a saying…



Now, what does this rant have to do with humor?  Easily, watching you think you can tick me off is hilarious! Besides, this is a sarcasm site, not just a drop on the floor with a belly ache ha ha site.

Now, I had a point to this rambling when I started, what the heck was it….. (Que the Jeopardy theme song…)

Oh yea, I remember now.  That neon sign over my head – Try My Patience.

Today has been a day when people are pushing my buttons. But anger I refuse to give in to! Now, if you say, give into my frustration? Sign me up. I get frustrated a lot. I don’t yell though. I rub my eyes, scratch my head and just go “Why???” In my head I go “What the heck are you thinking!!!”

Now I could go on and on on about this, but I’m not. I just wanted to vent so I didn’t do pretend physical harm to someone. You know the pretend stuff where you are in a cartoon and like Wile E Coyote you can drop them off a cliff and they don’t die or get hurt. Maybe smash their head into the foam fake wall. Or maybe even hit the secret trap door that sends them into the depths of the earth. Well, you get the point.

I feel better now. Thank you my wordpress/facebook/twitter readers. All is good in my world again.

At least until I come into contact with another human being.

~~~~till we laugh again~~~~

I Don’t Do Phone

Every Christmas a tradition goes on in many homes across the world – Pass the Phone Around.

Now, I’ve never been a fan of this particular tradition. It has always been a form of torture for me. I’m not sure if bamboo under the nails is worse. Tho I assume it has to be so I just do “phone” when required to be a good daughter or friend. (Although I failed miserably yesterday)

You see, I DON”T DO PHONE! Maybe you have someone in your family like me. My nephew is grooming to join my club.

Here is the issue. I hate talking on the phone. Period. I hate holding the phone to my head, I hate the talking. I hate the small talk. I hate being on hold. I hate everything about it. Those close to me know this. It took many years for them to accept it.

I feel worse for my mom as she probably has been hurt the most by this quirk of mine.(Although she does get at least one good call a week and sometimes I actually listen too). I have another family member that builds up her “7 minutes” of talk time that I must use each month.

Yea, I admit it, I have a bad memory on my calls. I’ve been known to hang up then be asked what did you two talk about? I’ll have a blank stare and honest to god I can not recall what we discussed. I know, I suck. I’m bad. I’m a terrible daughter, friend, co-worker, you name it. I accept my loserhood. I know a big part of this particular issue is my failure to not multi-task while talking. But just sitting or standing there listening to someone is like hitting me over the head with a 2 x 4.

Oh and don’t put me on hold. I will hang up. It’s nothing personal, I don’t do “phone” so I sure the heck don’t do “hold”. I’ve had several awesome administrative assistants in my time and one of the first things I told them is I hate being put on hold. I’m ok with you putting me on hold to take care of customers, employees or emergencies. But when I’m not there when you come back, don’t take it personal, just call me back. They all understood and accepted my deficency in this area.

Currently I’m trying to reach out to one of my sisters but we have a communication gap. She prefers phone, I prefer text, email, carrier pigeon, anything but talking on the phone. She on the other hand never looks at facebook, her cell is lost in her purse or the cushions and I think she forgot her email password or the dog ate it. Oh well, I guess that carrier pigeon option is starting to look better.

Ok, I will admit that bluetooth and headphones has helped. Only a tiny bit. I no longer need to hold the phone to my ear but I still have that small talk problem or even worse, paying attention 100%.

As we move into a new year, I could pretend to have a new resolution to be better at this, but I’d so be lying. I’ve hated it for the past 40 years I’ll hate it for the next 40.

In parting I have one thing to say…… TEXT ME! I promise we can have a conversation in short messages. It will feel like we talked for hours.

And if you love me… Please, please, please … Don’t make me do phone!   😀


~~~~~~till we laugh again~~~~~~~~~~

Y B Normal?

Most of my life people have thought I was a little odd. To them, I say – AND PROUD OF IT!   😀

Let’s face it, normal sucks. I like to embrace my uniqueness. Granted, I’m not as unique as some but unique in my own way. But isn’t that the way it is suppose to be?

If having no sense of humor is normal I don’t want anything to do with it. Not being able to laugh for no reason? Count me out. I want to laugh just cuz I found it freaking funny. No matter how stupid it may seem to you.

Acting a goofball out of the blue? Yep, I’m in. Dancing with a stuffed animal and pretending it is talking to me? You got it. Making funny voices when I talk to you? Oh yea.

Feeling as if the world has it out for me? NO WAY! I refuse to give in to the bad stuff that happens. I like my view on life. I refuse to be “normal” and be a chicken little like many others. I see the glass half full dang it! And it is, even if there is only a drop left in the darn thing.

So if you want to be “normal” and feel sorry for yourself, if you want to be “normal” and never laugh, if you want to be “normal” and act all mature and grown up 24/7 then have fun. If you want to miss all the funny stuff that happens during a day. You want to repress those urges to just let go – Then you be normal. Normal sucks.

I have a saying

      Be mature but remain a kid at heart…


So don’t be normal… Laugh and don’t worry what other people think. It’s their depressed life and weird hang ups. Be you. The world would be a much better place if it would just embrace everyone’s “weirdness”…

And whatever you do, please let your kids be who they are, life sucks enough without you trying to make them “normal”…

Try Hiding in a Big Pink Truck

Those that know me, know I own an ice cream store. As part of this, I converted my 2000 Ford 150 into a rolling billboard. First off, I LOVE my truck. Our first 8 years together it was a nice blend into any situation grey color. No one could pick me out of a line up. Then two years ago my veil of anonymity disappeared overnight.

Do you know how hard it is to blend in with a big bright pink truck with giant ice cream all over it?

Thank god I was never one to flip off people or swear at others. I also live in a small town doubling the fun of hiding. When driving, I tend to forget the outside  exterior as the inside is just as cozy and comforting as it was the day I bought it 11 years ago. I’ll be sitting at a light wondering why the people in the cars next to me are staring at me. The natural reaction we as drivers have is to yell out “What you looking at?” or “What’s your problem?”.  But as I stated earlier, thank god I’m not the confrontational type of driver. No road rage incidents in my future.

Now, with that said, let me tell you about an incident yesterday that proved to be one of my “laughter moments”.

Yesterday I had a few errands to run and afterwards I stopped at the Subway around the corner on my way into my store. As I left the sandwich shop and was about to hop in my truck, I heard a woman’s voice yell out “So you are the one driving me nuts today!” My first instinct was to say WTF but being the non confrontational person I am, I slowly turn and see a woman in the truck next to me with her window cracked. I smile and say “Excuse me?” with a quizzical smile on my face.

The older woman smiles back and says – “You taunted me at the Drs office, now you are taunting me now.”  For a brief moment I arch my eyebrow only to realize she was pointing at my truck. She continues on… “That big ice cream Sundae looks so good! but I’m trying to be good.”

Now, if you noticed in the picture above, my nice pink truck has a giant Oreo Sundae on it. And let me tell ya, it does look good.

Needless to say, I left with a smile and chuckled all the way around the shopping center to my store.

This was a classic example of what I mean by embracing the little moments of laughter we have in our daily life.

As for the Pink Truck… I miss my gray truck and our quiet moments together, but the pink has grown on me (trust me – I’m not a “pink” kinda girl). I definitely have loved the smiles it brings to others. Especially the kids.

Yep! I’m Laughing at You

Let’s face it, we all do it. We all lie about it. And we might as well come clean.There is no shame.

A friend was telling me how she scuffed up her knees when she went flying when trying to out run someone. I pictured her getting her top half too far ahead of her feet and then gravity took it from there. Face plant.  (LOL – sorry, laughing just picturing it again – arms out, rolling around a few times, maybe a somersault or two). I told her I have been there so many times (I’m the family klutz). Even when we are the ones falling, we can’t help but laugh through the pain. Many a time I just sat there laughing my butt off thinking of the site I must have made.

Those around us want to bust a gut but we yell at  them that they better not laugh at us. So while there is genuine concern, the belly ache is just dying to be released. You can laugh and care at the same time. It’s freaking funny.

Slap stick has been a staple of our comedy for years. We love for people to fall down, bang into walls, hit someone over the head. Yet for some reason, we let those embarrassing moments cause us to scream “Are you laughing at me?” and we sheepishly go “No, not at all”   (even though our soda that just shot out our nose gave us away).

One day I was making a large drink for someone and knocked it over, spilling it all down my shirt and leg. I was so ticked off (and cold as it was a frozen drink) and we were busy and it made this huge mess. The guy I was working with just looked at me ready to die laughing but thought it might be safer for him to just look away. I looked at him and said “It’s ok, if it wasn’t me I’d be dying too.”

So I say in 2012 as part of our laugh a day, we embrace our truth. Yes! I am laughing at you. I”m sorry you got hurt, but that shit was funny!


~~~~~~ till we laugh again~~~~~

Animal Russian Roulette or Animal Dodge Ball?

First off, I live in the middle of nowhere. Ok, not really nowhere because technically it is somewhere and I do know where I am. So the actual wording should be; I live out in the desert where most humans prefer the city or a small town. Think of it as making a right at the small town and then out 15 minutes past the “normal” people. My claim to those that make fun of me, is I at least get to see all the stars at night uninterrupted by the street lights or city lights. We need to go miles and miles to find a street light – SO there! Nanu Nanu!

Anyways, I did have a point to make on this post, now what was it….. Oh yea..

On that 15 minute drive to civilization I have noticed that Mother Nature thinks those of us foolish enough to live out there and have nothing to look at for our trek into town should at least be able to play a game as we drive in and out. ANIMAL DODGEBALL.

Now, before all the PETA fans and animal lovers go crazy, finish reading. I promise, it’s not us humans. It’s them!

I’m thinking the critters that live out in our way must get awful bored with no movie theaters or arcades or a decent donut place. So they just lie in wait and think of things to humor themselves with. And they have decided it is either so boring they take their chances with Russian Roulette or a dangerous game of Animal Dodge Ball. And it is so popular all the animals play.

I drive down this one road we call “I’m by the cow farm” (it’s really a cow farm that harnesses cow poo – yummy smell when 115 degrees out but that is another story for another day). While driving down this patch, listening to my music trying to avoid falling in the ditch — a flock, no a gaggle, no a bus load of black birds swoop down in front of my truck pulling up just as they are about to see why sometimes you are the windshield and sometimes you are the bug. And let me tell ya, some of those suckers think they are Tom Cruise in Top Gun. It really is like a scene out of Hitchcock’s The Birds.

Then, on the way to my dirt road late at night, the road is pitch black, yes pitch black. Trust me, I love taking new visitors down the road and killing my head lights to watch them scream like a teenage girl at a Justin Beiber concert. Anyways, as I drive, these jack rabbits, regular rabbits, Bugs Bunny, whoever they are; dash out in front of me narrowly getting across (Must be those lucky rabbit’s feet they bought at 7-11).  And during this mile stretch, this will repeat itself like 3-4 times like a wave at the baseball stadium (some nights they also struggle getting past the 2nd section of stubborn folks refusing to participate).

This post is too long now, so I can’t tell you about the wolf rush or the road runner rally. But maybe someday.

Just know, It’s not our fault that our houses are located in the middle of now where on their turf. They just need to get over it and live peacefully with our whirling cars driving through their backyards.  After all, it’s the American way to take over someone or something’s land.


~~~~~~~~ Till we laugh again~~~~~~~

PS, No birds,  rabbits, wolves, dogs, roadrunners, bees, strays, etc were harmed during this post. (at least not by me)

Sign Twirlers & Passion for the Job

We’ve all seen them, the kids they pay $10 an hour to stand on the corner swirling signs. Yep, they make that much, some pay even more. Unless of course they work for the place then they get minimum wage so if you feel the need to sign swirl, be an independent contractor!

Here in Arizona, these folks get to do this in 115 degree heat. When you pass them you want to give them some water. Makes you wonder if they have to pay for their own water out of that $10. Things that make you go hmmm… I keep waiting to drive by one day and see one lying flat out on the corner passed out from heat exhaustion. And I suppose in Montana they just freeze in place. As long as they don’t lick the light post they should be safe.

Or how about the poor folks at tax time that get to not only stand out in the heat but wear that cool statue of liberty costume? Now, you know you are jealous! Wishing you had that job.

How about the Entertainment value? They get so bored they start swirling that sign. Is it me or are they getting more daring with their tricks? Some can fling it in the air and catch it, some swing it behind their back, and some do a little dance. I’m always smiling or laughing at them. They are soooo cute and entertaining.

Then there are the ones that are so cool, you know the ones, in the hoodie, Ipod in their ears and attitude on their face. They look soooo excited by this high paying gig. And the poor things are so exhausted by this work, they they can’t even hold up the sign, they just lay it across their shins letting it point into the road. (I’m pretty sure the businesses isn’t located in the middle of the intersection)

But there is one problem. I usually don’t have the foggiest idea what that sign says. Last time I checked, I was driving and being entertained by their movements, I never really pay attention to their sign. Plus, even if I wanted to I would be SOL (poop out of Luck). When I would look, that is when the sign would not be over their head or behind the back, between the knees, or up their as… well you get the point.

So, my advice for those hiring these folks, while they definitely provide entertainment in some fashion for myself and the other drivers, for $10 – $15 an hour, you might want to see if you are getting what you pay for. I know I am…


~~~~~~~~ Till we laugh again~~~~~~~

I need a plan for my resolution…

Ok, as you know, I have committed to 365 (366) days of helping everyone laugh in 2012. I thought I’d start practicing this month to get in the groove. So far I’m on day T minus 16 and since I started at T minus 25 I’ve missed 2 days. Hmmm, my plan isn’t working to well.

But I have an excuse – I mean reason. Life. Yep, I’m blaming life. How dare it get in the way? How rude.

Then again, as everyone starts to decide on their New Years Resolutions, I guess my practice month shows a fatal flaw we all will have. Working in our daily life in to our Yearly goal.

Whether your goal is to lose weight, start working out more, eating healthier, stop smoking, not swearing, not hitting your brother, making your bed everyday, not settling for cheap toilet paper — well you get the point.  Whatever your resolution, it will require daily focus. And yet life will will get in the way and we can’t quit. Česky: Toaletní papír English: Toilet paper Es...

Now where was I going? Ah, the bathroom (hence the toilet paper commitment)….


Wait! that wasn’t it. My point is, we might fall off our resolution a day here and there but the important thing is, we hop back on that commitment train and keep riding until our last stop on December 31, 2012.  (Except those of you giving up smoking, you can’t restart on January 1, 2013 / Bed makers, you can stop and go back to being messy cuz if you kept it up for a year, you deserve a plaque!)

I’m just rambling (I know, what’s new)

I’m out of here, I have make my bed (Soooooooooooo kidding on that one – I haven’t made my bed in years – seems like such a waste of time since i’ll just get it messy again tonight)

~~~~~~~~Till next time~~~~~~~~~

I Bring You Mr Pants Down

I bring you – Mr. Pants Down. No, I don’t mean the kids (and sometimes adults) who think it they are all that and a bag of chips (Don’t forget the Coke – as Karla would tell me).

Why on earth would they feel the need to show the world they are intellectually challenged on how to do the simple task of pulling up their pants?

Maybe, their parents forgot to teach them where their waist was…

“Jimmy, where is your nose? Where is your knee? Where is your belly button?…”   You get the point.

It might be different if they had some boxers that had some important message. I can see it now written across one of their behinds…  “If I pull these up I will explode and kill dozens of people! I don’t do this for selfish reasons!  I do this to protect America!”

Now I have learned a few things due to this phenomenon

  • How to spell the word phenomenon (there is no i in case you were wondering)
  • Plaid is the most common boxer short for the pants up challenged
  • Silk boxers just make your pants slide off – it’s not their fault (Skinny dudes are screwed cuz no belt in the world helps – at least that is what they tell me)
  • Some do it just cuz everyone else is doing it and heaven forbid their think for themselves
  • Some guys still stitch their name on their underwear but there are a lot of Calvin Klein’s in the world tho (bad reference to Back to the Future)
  • And finally, some do it for the original reason, they think they are still in jail and trying to find a new bunk mate

But whatever the reason, it drives me FREAKING INSANE! Yes, I hate to admit it. It is one of the only things that drive me up the wall. Can you say the word – unrespectful? (no i by the way)

But I think I have found the solution. But I will need help from all the ladies. So ladies, Pssst, here is the plan….

Granny Panties! Yep, Let’s drop our pants down or hike up those skirts in and show them Granny Panties! Lots flowers, or maybe big hearts, the guys like boxers with hearts so why not. But either way, I know the dudes will love us ladies even more. Hell if they think they are sexy showing us theirs, just wait till we show them ours.

So like Mr Pants Down above, let’s get everyone dropping them. Hell, why do we bother wearing them? Seems like we should just get these guys to wear buttless chaps and accomplish the same thing. But maybe it’s just me…


~~~~~~~~ Till we laugh again~~~~~~~