MY MOTHER’S DICTIONARY

AIRPLANE: What Mom impersonates to get a 1-year-old to eat strained beets.

APPLE: Nutritious lunchtime dessert which I traded for cupcakes.

BABY: 1. Dad, when he gets a cold. 2. Mom’s youngest child, even if he’s 42.

BATHROOM: a room used by the entire family, believed by all except Mom to be
self-cleaning.

BECAUSE: Mom’s reason for having me do things which can’t be explained
logically.

BED and BREAKFAST: Two things I didn’t ever make for myself.

COUCH POTATO: What Mom found under the sofa cushions after we ate dinner.

DRINKING GLASS: Any carton or bottle left open in the fridge.

DUST RAGS: See “DAD’S UNDERWEAR.”

EAR: A place where kids store dirt.

EAT: What I like to do between meals, but not at them.

EYE: The highly susceptible optic nerve which, according to my Mom, can be
“put out” by anything from a suction-arrow to a carelessly handled butter
knife.

FOOD: The response Mom usually gives in answer to the question “What’s for
dinner tonight?” See “SARCASM”

GENIUSES: Amazingly, all of Mom’s kids.

HAMPER: A wicker container with a lid, usually surrounded by, but not
containing, dirty clothing.

HANDI-WIPES: Pants, shirt-sleeves, drapes, etc.

HINDSIGHT: What Mom experienced from changing too many diapers.

JUNK: Dad’s stuff.

KISS: Mom medicine.

LAZY-BOY (recliner): Mom’s nickname for Dad.

from Grif.net

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