On Mondays at Avenidas at the ten o’clock hour, there is a group called Hope group, where participants are urged to introduce themselves and tell what they hope for, or what they are grateful or thankful for. A few weeks ago I asked Sarah, the social worker leader, if I could tell a joke. She agreed, and so I did. The following week she told me that I was now the official joke teller. Nothing like having a title!
Then there is Bob, who is sharp as a tack. But Bob is 90 years old, and very hard of hearing. So I have taken to typing up my jokes for him, and he usually roars with laughter. Last week he asked if he could read the joke, and I agreed. He got quite a kick out of it. He insists on giving me credit for the humor. And again yesterday he read the joke, which is repeated here on the blog.
Then another said that he had a joke, too, so Sarah let him read it. Another good one. (Reproduced below.) After which Sarah commented that maybe the group should change names to Joke Group.
Here’s the one I brought --
This is the story of the young lady who phones her boy friend.
“Hi, I’m having trouble with a jig saw puzzle. Would you please help me?”
“Sure, what’s it supposed to be?”
“Well, there’s a big red rooster on the box.”
“Okay, I’ll be right over.”
The boy friend arrives, and looks at all the pieces spread out all over the table. “Tell you what,” he says. “Let’s just relax, have a nice hot cup of coffee, and then we’ll put all these cornflakes back in the box.”
Here is the joke told by the other fellow --
Father Flanigan was walking down the street when he met Catherine, whom he had married to her husband about a year ago. “Top o’ the mornin’ to ya,” he said. “And how ya be? Any wee ones yet?”
“Ah, no, Father, no wee ones yet,” she responded.
“Weel, I’ll tell ya, Catherine. I’m off to Rome for a meetin’, and I’ll light a candle for ya for some wee ones,” promised Father Flanigan.
It was some years before they met again. “Ah, Catherine, any wee ones yet?”
“Oh, yes, Father. I have three sets of twins and four other youngsters -- 10 in all.”
“And how is your dear husband?” asked Father Flanigan.
“Oh, he’s off to Rome to blow out that candle.”