Down Hummingbird Lane

Good Morning....Ready for a new week ?.......................................
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Yep....What can I say......................................................................

Me got flowers too..........................................................................

Wez gettin our bath.....gots a date too...........................

Bath ! who said BATH ?.....................................................

We're dressed up......Party time !...................................

I'm going, youse guys make me laugh............................

The frustrating thing about elections is that no matter who you vote for, the government still gets in.

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After a couple hours out in the boat, the boy suddenly became curious about the world around him.

He asked his father, "How does this boat float?"

The father thought for a moment, then replied, "I don't rightly know, son."

The boy returned to his contemplation, then turned back to his father, "How do fish breath underwater?"

Once again the father replied, "Don't rightly know, son."

A little later the boy asked, "Why is the sky blue?"

Again, the father replied. "Don't rightly know, son."

Worried he was going to annoy his father, he says, "Dad, do you mind my asking you all of these questions?"

"Of course not, son. If you don't ask questions ... you'll never learn anything!"

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When you go to work if your name is on the building, you're rich.

If your name is on your desk, you're middle-class.

If your name is on your shirt, you're poor.

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My son was surprised when his six-year-old daughter recently announced, "I think all this talk about my baby brother coming is getting me ready to be a mother."

Curious, he asked her why she thought that.

"Cause I have a bump on the back of my head," she said.

"Mommy says all mothers have eyes in the back of their head, and I think mine are starting to grow."

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A nearsighted minister glanced at the note that Mrs. Jones had sent to him by way of an usher.

The note read: "Bill Jones having gone to sea, his wife desires the prayers of the congregation for his safety."

Failing to observe the punctuation, the clergyman startled his audience by announcing: "Bill Jones, having gone to see his wife, desires the prayers of the congregation for his safety."

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My uncle, an Anglican archbishop, was presiding over our family's Thanksgiving dinner.

My two daughters, eight and five, had been practicing saying a special grace for the occasion.

When my uncle asked if one of them would like to recite it, the youngest quickly volunteered.

We all bowed our heads and waited expectantly.

"Dear...," she began.

There was a prolonged silence, then finally a loud stage whisper to her sister.

"Psst! What's His name?"

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Mondays are the potholes in the road of life.