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THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
Parth, 4, visited a zoo in Solapur, India, with his Mom Gouri. In the
birds'' enclosure, he saw a magnificent dancing pea****, with his feathers
spread all around him. Immediately Parth began to scan the enclosure
intently, from top to bottom. He looked puzzled and his mother asked him
what he was searching for. He replied, "Mom! I''m looking for the speakers.
The pea**** is dancing, but I can''t hear any music!" -- Submitted by
Vaibhav Dharamse (friend of Gouri) of Bombay, India
Here is another darling zoo story. The whole family was going to
spend the day at the Blank Park Zoo in Des Moines to celebrate Madison''s
fourth birthday. As a special treat, she spent the night before her big
day with her grandparents. At breakfast the next morning, Grandpa Tom
asked her how it felt to be four. Madison looked at him with much
indignation and said, "Grandpa, I''m not four yet! I won''t be four till we
get to the zoo!" -- Sue Cerwinske (grandmother of Madison) of Pella, Iowa
Diane had been babysitting her grandson, Oggie, on Oct. 27, the night
of the lunar eclipse. When his daddy, Brent, came to take him home, they
all went out on the porch to look at the moon. Brent pointed to the moon
and told 23-month-old Oggie to look at the moon. The little boy looked and
looked. Finally he asked, "Where did the cow go?" They had been reading
"Hey Diddle Diddle" that evening! -- Diane Schlemmer of LaGrange, Indiana
Kameron, 4, was saying her bedtime prayers with her parents. She was
thanking God for a long list of things like her family, the trees, the
flowers, the rain that makes the trees and flowers grow, etc. Then she
said, "and thank you God for the bees and the honey they make... but for
their stings... no thanks!" She said it in the same tone of voice you
would use if someone asked you if you wanted something and you replied with
a simple, "No thanks." -- Stacia Smith (mother of Kameron) of Texas
While waiting for his brother to finish soccer practice, Christopher,
5, was walking in the park with his mother Kathy. Holding his mother''s
hand and swinging it back and forth, Chris asked, "Mom, who should I
marry?" With a smile, Kathy said, "Oh, Chris, you have lots of time to
decide. I wouldn''t worry about it right now." Chris replied, "I just want
to make the decision and get it over with!" -- Kathy Sehlhorst (mother of
Chris) of Ada, Ohio, who adds, "Chris is now 21 and still hasn''t decided.")
Rebekah''s family moved to a new home and the 5-year-old didn''t like
the curtains in her new room. Rebekah said, "Mom, I hate to tell you this
and I don''t want to hurt your feelings, but those curtains have got to go!"
-- Margaret Heise (great-grandmother of Rebekah) formerly of Garrett,
Indiana, now in Arizona for the winter
Tauna tells about a little boy in her aunt''s kindergarten class who
kept trying to leave for home after lunch. She sat him down and explained
that he was in all-day school now. The little boy sat there thinking about
what his teacher had said. Then he asked, "I just want to know who the
h*** signed me up for this!" He didn''t agree to the all-day stuff and he
wanted answers! -- Tauna Kemp of Petersburg, Virginia
When Blake was 10 and his sister Megan was 6 they were building a fort
with the neighbor boy in the woods. Megan and Blake came into the house to
get some tools. Blake''s father Dave told them not to use any of his
(Dave''s) tools because Blake had his own tools. Some time passed and Megan
came in to the house. Dave asked Megan if the boys had any of his tools in
the woods. "I can''t tell you," Megan said. "That would get the boys in
trouble." -- Charlotte Sawyer (mother of Blake and Megan) of Pennville,
Indiana
John, 5, and his mother were on the way to the grocery store, which
has a small toy aisle. John asked if he could get a toy. His mother
responded, "It depends..." Before she could finish her sentence, John
piped up, "O.K., O.K., I will take ''de pen'' instead of de toy today!" --
Bev (mother of John) of Sunnyvale, California. She says she was laughing
so hard she had to pull over to the side of the road!
Another day, John had been asking his dad to tickle him. Usually, he
would get tickled in his armpits and on his tummy, but his dad likes to
tickle in the back of the knees, too. So amidst gales of laughter at being
tickled, John gasped for breath and said, "Dad, tickle my kneepits and give
my armpits a rest!"
Hannah was from a "mixed" family -- her parents were Cardinal fans and
her sister and grandparents were Cub fans. When Hannah was in kindergarten
she had a teacher that she loved dearly; but one day she came home from
school and told her grandmother that she was upset with her teacher. But
she wouldn''t tell her why. Her grandmother and mother were concerned
because they knew that Hannah was easy-going and it took a lot to get her
upset. After hours of not giving an answer, Hannah finally said, "The
teacher told us to store our extra supplies (glue, tissues, etc.) by her
desk... She said we would each have a cubby hole to keep the stuff in. She
won''t get my stuff until she gets Cardinal holes!" -- Grace Hermetet
(neighbor of Hannah) of Beardstown, Illinois

VETERANS DAY WISH
by Stephen T. Banko
More than a decade ago, I sat on high bluff in post-midnight darkness
at a place called Chestnut Ridge.
The lights of the city flickered in the distance, contrasted against
the vast black space of Lake Erie. The moment was eerily reminiscent of so
many nights I''d spent protecting the high ground in a place called Vietnam.
It was more eerie than it might have been because behind me was the
Moving Wall -- the traveling half-scale replica of the Vietnam Memorial in
Washington DC.
On its metal veneer, the names of more than 58,000 Americans spelled
out the cost and the tragedy of our nation''s longest war with strings of
letters that formed the names that spoke to lives too little lived and
dreams too soon dashed.
There were other veterans with me that night, but I was more keenly
aware of the spirits that moved around the hilltop. They moved in the cool
calm that washed the high ground. They had been confined in the shiny
steel walls of the Wall all day while visitors touched the names that
represented their sacrifice. Occasionally, they seeped into an unprotected
consciousness creating a tear or causing an unpleasant memory.
In the quiet night air, though, they were out in force -- a real
presence in our midst.
I took some solace in the notion that by bringing the Wall to this
spot, I had done something to better help people remember a time most would
rather forget. After all, my war asked nothing of most but demanded
everything from a few.
The "most" were uncomfortable recalling the "few." But the larger
issue for me was what would our service, our suffering, and the sacrifice
of the dead mean in the national consciousness? What lesson could be drawn
from what we did? What legacy would we leave? I had seen such indomitable
courage. I had been party *****ch incredible carnage. I had seen the
absolute best and the utter worst of man in those dark and bloody jungles.
What would it all mean to a nation that embraced victory like a national
birthright and rejected defeat as a disease?
On that quiet hilltop, I determined that if our experience would serve
as a reminder of the inordinate cost of war -- if our blood could purchase
a measure of hatred for the waste of human life -- if these names on this
Wall could make people understand the futility of combat as a method of
resolving differences -- then we would leave a legacy in which both the
living and the dead could take pride.
My dream was not unlike that of those who sent tens of millions to
slaughter in World War I -- the war to end all wars.
More than a decade has passed between then and now, and the reality of
my naivete still stuns me. Once I was confident that humanity would
recognize the need to end war. Now, I have to fight against the pessimism
that now pervades my thinking as I continue to hope that in our ability to
remember we hold the desire to end war. Events and circumstances
constantly conspire and collide, however, to make us recall the old wisdom
that says, "only the dead have seen the end of war."
I have rarely met a man or woman who doesn''t say they are against war.
What I see so few of, though, are those willing to be warriors for peace.
We hold certain things to be worth living for, and thus, worth dying for.
Isn''t it strange that peace is not among them?
Veterans Day is set aside to celebrate those among us who have borne
the burden of war and have lived. Theirs is a special legacy -- to carry
on with their knowledge and the courage that which they have endured in the
name of national purpose.
Let us wish for them today that they be granted their own peace even
as we wish for our own.
-- Stephen T. Banko <Duffysboss @ aol.com>
FORGOTTEN HEROES
They return from every war
Thanking God to be alive.
They meld into society
Feeling blessed to have survived.
Some, with daily nightmares
And memories hard to bear,
Some, with physical reminders,
Of limbs no longer there.
Some, with great hopes for the future,
Discover jobs are hard to find
And they feel that this Country
Is neither loyal or kind.
Some of them return,
To be confined to bed and chair
And never have a visitor
To offer thanks or a word of cheer.
They are the forgotten heroes,
Who have answered this nation''s call,
Our brave, American Veterans....
Who were willing to give their all!
-- Freda Fullerton <Fjful @ aol.com>
THE VETERAN STANDS
As I sit there on the bleachers,
To watch the parade go by,
I get a lump in my throat,
To see our flag as it flies,
Proudly I stand in tribute,
But when I look around I see,
The only ones standing,
Is the man in the wheelchair and me,
Painfully, slowly, determinedly,
He has struggled to gain his feet,
A man who bravely fought in battle,
So that flag wouldn''t fall in defeat,
I can see the tears in his eyes,
With the pride shining through,
As he shows love for his flag,
And for his country, too,
He''s one of our many veterans,
One who answered when we called,
He may be in a wheelchair,
But he stands above us all.
-- Anita Burney <neets7 @ aol.com>

THE FUNNY THINGS KIDS SAY
Janet was fortunate enough to keep her granddaughter Shelby while she
was going through kindergarten. One day as they were driving to school,
Shelby said she wasn''t going to go to the first grade. When Janet asked,
"Why not?" Shelby said, "Oh, I''ve learned enough in kindergarten. I don''t
need to go any further." -- Janet Robinson of Newcastle, Oklahoma
Mike asked his 8-year-old niece if she was getting excited about
Thanksgiving, now that Halloween is over. She said she was. Mike asked if
she would be making a turkey by tracing her hand, and she said, "Uncle
Mike, that''s so-o-o-o kindergarten!" -- Mike Marturello of Angola, Indiana
Mayra took her daughter Nina, 7, to Nina''s old pre-school to show her
how they were renovating and upgrading the classrooms. Nina took one look
at the changes and with flaring nostrils and fire in her eyes demanded,
"How DARE they mess with my childhood!" -- Sandra Hester (friend of Mayra)
of Vicksburg, Mississippi
David, 4, was coloring a picture. His babysitter Sherri asked him
what it was. He said, "It is Sandy the squirrel from Sponge Bob Square
Pants." Sherri said, "Oh, that sounds like a hard thing to draw." David
replied nonchalantly, "That''s OK... I''m a genius!" -- Sherri Winther of
Huntington, New York
"David is a real gem," Sherri adds. "I love sitting for him." Sherri
said the other day he dictated a letter to his father. Sherri wrote the
message in dotted lines so he could trace it with his markers. After he
was finished he proudly held up his handiwork at arm''s length to admire it
and exclaimed, "Priceless!"
While Jodi was preparing dinner, Emily, 4, was playing quietly in
another room. Then Emily came to Jodi and asked if she could help. Jodi
said she could set the table. As she was placing the plates, silverware
and napkins on the table, Emily asked, "Why are we eating at the table
tonight?" (Regrettably, the family often does not have time for a sit-down
dinner.) Jodi said the family needed to start eating at the table more
often. Emily worked quietly for a few minutes and then said, "Mommy, we
really do need to start eating all our meals at the dinner table like a
normal family.... Aw, who am I kidding? We''re toast!" -- Mark Brayton
(father of Emily) of Kendallville, Indiana
Alicia has been trying to teach her kids that there are people out
there who aren''t always nice. "There are people out there who would take
you away from Mommy and Daddy so always stay close by me," Alicia tells her
children. One day at home the doorbell rang. Alicia was working in her
office, so she asked Jordan, 4, to see who it was. Jordan said, "Oh,
someone might take me." Alicia said, "OK, I''ll come and see. Then Jordan
said, "That''s OK... I''ve got some moves!" -- Alicia Snow of Kendallville,
Indiana
Donna, a church children''s choir director, was informing her
children''s choir that they would not have a rehearsal the next week,
because it was a school holiday and Veteran''s Day. One of the little boys
asked, "What is Veteran''s Day?" Donna asked the children if any of them
knew what it was. Several hands went up, and she called on Matthew. His
absolutely serious response was, "I know what it is. It''s the day the
doctors take care of all the animals!" -- Donna Henry of Medway,
Massachusetts
Caroline, 3, wanted to watch a TV show one morning and couldn''t find
the remote control. After looking all over the house, she spotted it under
a bed. Her mother praised her for finding the remote. "That''s what little
kids are for," Caroline said, "just built to find things like the remote!"
-- from proud PaPa of Escanaba, Michigan
One year Diane''s kindergarten class painstakingly made hats to wear on
Abraham Lincoln''s birthday. They were top hats which included a beard that
came all the way down the side and under the face. Diane insisted that the
children wear the hats as they were dismissed so the children could hear
all the ooh''s and ahh''s of the parents. Most of the children willingly put
them on but one rather precocious child said, "She just wants us to look
like dorks." -- Diane of Santa Ana, California
Staci was shopping with her son Dylan, 3. He was really enjoying
looking at all of the Christmas decorations. Staci said, "We will be
celebrating OUR holiday, Hannuka, in a few weeks." Dylan asked, "Will
Hannuka be at our house soon?" Staci said, "Yes, real soon." The next day
Dylan happily told his pre-school teacher, "My mommy said Hannuka is coming
to our house real soon... and she will be staying in our guest room!" --
Phyllis Hansen (grandmother of Dylan) of Milford, Ohio

STUFFED WITH TRA***IONS
by Debbie Farmer
I haven''t wanted to bring this up, but something strange happens to
people on Thanksgiving.
I don''t mean that they suddenly change their hair color and go on
shopping sprees or anything like that. I mean that something compels
otherwise reasonable people to make the same tra***ional family
Thanksgiving stuffing recipe year after year, no matter what.
If you don''t believe me, ask my friend Kathy. Most of the rest of the
year she successfully tries to avoid cooking. But each Thanksgiving, she
wakes up at dawn and spends hours HOURS in the kitchen making Wild Rice
Stuffing with Pearl Onions and Bacon Bits, a tra***ional family recipe
that''s been passed down from mother to daughter for five generations.
"Why don''t you just sleep in and buy a container of instant stuffing
mix?" I suggested one day over coffee.
But I could tell by the way she rolled her eyes and said, "But that''s
not the way we do it," that it would just be plain wrong.
Then there''s Kathleen. For as long as I''ve known her she has had a
policy on adding handfuls of olives to her stuffing. Oh, not because of
any special flavor or because her family particularly likes them but
because, as she put it simply, "That''s what my mother always did." It
doesn''t seem to matter that her mother actually hates olives and has no
idea why she did it that way either.
But things could be worse. Due to a cruel twist of fate, my friend
Carol''s husband insisted on bringing along his own family''s stuffing recipe
when they got married. Since Carol didn''t want to bother making two
different batches, she decided to merge them together, and now her
Thanksgiving stuffing is a mostly inedible concoction of brazil nuts,
buttermilk, chopped onions, and pineapple.
There are, of course, always the exceptions. My neighbor Sue refuses
to make any stuffing at all because last Thanksgiving her family''s
tra***ional "apple-almond-sage stuffing" recipe fell under suspicion. It
started when she found out that a certain cousin Hiedi follows a
tra***ional recipe for apple-walnut-sausage stuffing that was given to her
by a great-aunt who was known for her orange-walnut-fennel stuffing. I ask
you, how do you get to the bottom of that?
However, we all know what''s clearly going on here.
Thanksgiving stuffing, in a subtle way, connects each generation as
few other foods can. Sure, over the years the recipes may change a bit,
and you might not be able to explain exactly why you''re supposed to add a
cup of crushed oysters to the bread crumbs, but that''s OK, everyone just
goes along with it anyway.
Then, of course, there are people like me, whose tra***ional family
stuffing recipe comes from the back of a crouton box. I''m not sure what
this says about my family -- except that I come from a long line of people
who can''t cook. Or perhaps they''re just practical. Either way it''s not
much of a legacy.
And, truth be told, I''m not sure what to do about it except to try to
change the recipe. In fact, this year I think I''ll add a dash of vermouth
and some dried cherries and maybe even an oyster or two.
And if my kids complain about it I''ll just calmly explain that it''s OK
if they don''t like it. In fact, they don''t even have to eat it. The most
important thing is that we''re creating a new family tra***ion to pass on
together.
And then -- well, then, we could all leave and go to a restaurant.
-- Debbie Farmer <Debbie @ familydaze.com>
THINK. THANK.
by Al Batt
I love Thanksgiving.
It''s a particularly good time of the year if you''re a guy. For a guy,
there is very little shopping required and it involves a lot of eating.
This makes Thanksgiving a great holiday -- the silence of the yams... when
Harry met salad... when the human body changes from being 98 % water to 98
% turkey and stuffing... when the wise person wears sweatpants.
Each year brings an experimental stuffing or salad. Some adventurous
cook decides to try a recipe that she had read in the newspaper, heard on
the radio or saw on one of those cooking shows where some chef prepares a
dish that no one would ever eat. There is a reason that most Thanksgiving
foods are tra***ional.
The kids in my family had their own dining table. It was located
about 2 miles from the table where the grown-ups sat. Some years, we''d
have so many people over for Thanksgiving that the turkey would disappear
before it got to the kids'' table. By the time the mashed potatoes got to
us, they were as cold as ice cream.
When the turkey didn''t make it to our table, the children would get
hot dogs instead. I hoped for the turkey breast, but was always prepared
for the wurst. We got even. As the older folks sat, groggy from their
gluttonous conquest, I would say, "See, Mom, I told you that no one would
notice that the turkey had gone rancid a week ago."
Once upon a time during my teen years, I groused that I didn''t see
much to be thankful for. My mother told me that I needed to look with
better eyes. She was right. Each year, my mother was thankful that the
next holiday would be Christmas. We have so much to be thankful for.
This is the time of the year when leaves fall, carpeting our days with
blessings.
I am so thankful when anything good happens to me. I have had so much
help through the years. I am like a turtle on a fencepost. If you see a
turtle on a fencepost, you know one thing for sure -- he had help getting
there.
I was raised to say "please" and "thank you" and to be thankful that I
have so much to be thankful for. I am thankful for our heating bill. It
means we''re warm. I am thankful that I can complain about our government.
It means that we have freedom of speech. I am thankful for our phone bill,
because it means that we have so many friends and family to talk to.
I am pleased that I have so much to say "thank you" for.
I am thankful that we eat turkey at Thanksgiving and not buffalo. If
it were buffalo, we''d be eating sequels and spin-offs until next
Thanksgiving.
Thanksgiving leftovers are more than just turkey and dressing.
Thanksgiving leftovers include a renewed sense of gratitude for all that we
have and a strengthened resolve to be worthy of the blessings we receive.
Think. Thank.
May your leftovers last just as long as you need them.
-- Al Batt <SnoEowl @ aol.com>

AND BINGO WAS HER NAME
by Kathy Whirity
The name seemed to be a perfect fit.
When the time came to introduce our two young daughters to a family
pet, my husband Bill and I decided that a medium sized female dog would be
our best choice.
This bit of wisdom had been proven to be true time after time by the
habits of dogs I had been raised with. Females just seemed to catch on to
the house training thing, while any males who got past our front door were
quite consistent at leaving their mark whenever and wherever they felt the
urge.
We had a list of girl''s names picked out, but in the end it was
"Missy" that we all agreed upon for our new female puppy.
We wanted a dog like my mother''s dog, which was a black Lab mix. We
knew we found our dog when a friend of a friend''s dog had a litter of
puppies. The mother was a pure black Lab and the puppies were a beautiful
rust color, with a bit of white on the neck and paws. We immediately knew
we were meant to have one of these puppies.
For us it was love at first sight.
But, there was a problem. The friend explained that there was only
one female and it had already been promised to someone. Since these little
darlings were so irresistible, we decided to accept a male and hope for the
best.
Now our immediate focus had to be on finding a different name for our
new found male puppy because it just wouldn''t be right to call this
masculine canine Missy.
We began mulling over names like Buddy, Sam, Pal, Gonzo and Tigger,
but our sweet little puppy just did not fit any of those macho, doggy
names.
The name Bingo popped into my head that day and when I shared it with
the family they agreed it fit our new little boy dog to a tee. So, Bingo
it was.
It was a trip to the vet that both enlightened and surprised us about
the newest ad***ion to our family. We discovered, much to our delight,
that Bingo was more accurately a Bingess.
We were dumbfounded, but thrilled, that we had our female dog after
all. I''m sure there was another family experiencing a similar revelation
and perhaps having to do a little name changing of their own.
As for our dear pet, she would be forever stuck answering to the name
of Bingo. I guess there are worse things that can befall a pet.
She is now old and gray, usually found resting beside my favorite
chair. She slowly shuffles around her oversized body -- a testament to the
good life. In dog years she would be about 91 years old, ever my faithful
companion. She has survived being raised with two energetic little girls
who used to shower her with so much attention she used to take cover under
my bed.
Now that they are young women poor Bingo has to almost stand on her
head just to get them to notice her. To them, her grunts and groans are
sometimes a bit of a nuisance, yet they are a subtle reminder to me that
the old girl''s days are numbered.
Her gentle manner and undying loyalty are just a few of the reasons
for my gratitude at picking out the best mixed up pet that ever was.
...and Bingo was her name.
-- Kathy Whirity <kathywhirity @ yahoo.com>

SURPRISE GIFT
by Debbie Walters
Before my alarm clock went off, I was barely awake. I heard the
scrabbling noise of Lady Pooh moving about on her table over my bed (I''ve
slept comfortably on the floor for years now.)
The room is dimly lit because it''s foggy and grey outside and the sun
has yet to clear the wintery horizon. I pay it no mind because she''s
probably looking for a breakfast munch, right?
Well... she moves across the table over to her tree branch at the foot
of my bed and came shinnying down to the floor. Next thing I know, I feel
this weight on my feet atop the comforter and hear my little grey lady.
She''s strutting slowly up to my head, and with each stiff step she makes a
silly, sweet little "grunt grunt grunt" noise.
Since I fell asleep last night reading, the tiny lamp that shines down
and illuminates my pillow, is still on -- creating a pool of buttery light.
Still not awake fully, I feel her on my chest and hear her give a
grunt -- an almost human "harrumph!" I dutifully open one eye a bit. She
steps closer and in the soft light I find I''m nose to nose with her.
I open both eyes and say "Good Morning, Madam."
Now, I''ve still got both arms under the covers, and if I move, it will
discombobulate her, so I stay very still and wait. We eye each other and I
break the silence with a whispered, "Well?"
Suddenly, she BURSTS into song and dance! Grunting and pronging,
leaping and rolling about, flipping that tail around in a choreographed
frenzy! For a full minute, she just flung herself gloriously into it!
Then, as abruptly as she started, she stopped, stood up and righted
her fur regally.
She looked at me again, took a step forward and nipped me sweetly on
the nose. And then, with the UTMOST dignity, she grunted her way
gracefully back to her branch, up to her table, climbed into her nest and
crashed!
The entire episode didn''t take four minutes. I was so delighted,
entertained and touched that I was truly speechless.
There is absolutely NO doubt in my mind that Lady Pooh came down and
sang to me before the dawn!
I grinned ear-to-ear all day. While I gave her tons of kisses and
tummy loving before I left for work 90 minutes later, she acted like I made
a big to-do about nothing!
No one will ever convince me now that creatures don''t KNOW things and
understand.
She''d never done anything like it in her two years and it was a
complete surprise, to have a squirrel sing to me.
I have to share it because animal lovers will not only understand, in
your mind''s eye, you''ll see it happen, too. Then we can all laugh at her
joy.
It was incredibly special. And my BEST birthday gift ever. But I
still don''t know how SHE knew!
-- Debbie Walters <skwerl @ bellsouth.net>