Category: Life

My grandmother forwarded this to me:

One sunny day in 2008, an old man approached the White House from across Pennsylvania Avenue, where he’d been sitting on a park bench.

He spoke to the Marine standing guard and said, “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton.”

The Marine replied, “Sir, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn’t reside here.”

The old man said, “Okay,” and walked away.

The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton”.

The Marine again told the man, “Sir, as I said yesterday, Mrs. Clinton is not President and doesn’t reside here.”

The man thanked him and again walked away . .

The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same Marine, saying “I would like to go in and meet with President Hillary Clinton.”

The Marine, understandably agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, “Sir, this is the third day in a row you have been here asking to speak to Mrs. Clinton. I’ve told you already several times that Mrs. Clinton is not the President and doesn’t reside here. Don’t you understand?”

The old man answered, “Oh, I understand you fine, I just love hearing your answer!”

The Marine snapped to attention, saluted, and said, “See you tomorrow.”

Not sure how old this is, but I thought it was cool enough to pass on.

My sister’s friend turned 30 yesterday and my sister wanted to go out and celebrate, and she asked me if I’d watch her kids. I showed up starving at 7:15PM, and parked behind my sister in the driveway. My sister knew I hadn’t eaten and had taken out some frozen lasagna to thaw. I put it in the microwave while my sister finished getting ready to leave. The microwave beeped and I took the lasagna out and sat behind it on the kitchen table, ready to feast.

“Michael, can you move your car, I need to leave, I’m late.”

I left my food on the table and went down to move my car. My sister pulled out and drove away, and I went back upstairs to eat my lasagna. I walked into the kitchen to find both cats eating my dinner. I gently removed them from the table and asked Cedric (4) if they were eating my lasagna.

“Yes. But they’re not supposed to.”

“Why didn’t you yell at them?” I asked.

Cedric just shrugged.

I was faced with a dilemma. Either throw out the lasagna and go hungry, or suck it up and eat it. It would be an awful waste to get rid of that much food, and I was starving, so I ate it.

I’m glad I did, it was delicious.