Humor in the Family: Round Two

In this second installment I’ve some family stories for which I was not present, but merely heard told time and again over the years. As a kid, I never got bored hearing my mom and dad tell all the funny stories many times over. So, I still have them in my own memory banks, second-hand memories though they are.

It was not only my parents who were practical jokers from time to time, but all of the family on both sides.

And, not all the funny stories involve pranks. Some were just odd incidents that happened which in retrospect were very funny.

One of my mother’s stories conjures up quite the scene likely to have had the neighbors wondering what was going on.

The house they lived in at that time had a pitched roof with dormers facing the street, and an extension of the roof over the porch.

In the neighborhood lived a cat whose ownership was uncertain, but they had a hunch that it belonged to one Dr. Horan who lived nearby. They took to calling the cat “Dr. Horan.”

One day, there was a commotion out on the porch roof. It seems that this cat and another had gotten into a hissing and spitting match up on the roof, accessed from a nearby tree.

My mother, who was in her late teens at the time, and her step-mother were each leaning out of the dormer windows, but of course could not reach the cats. They proceeded to yell at the cat they recognized:

”Dr. Horan! Stop that”

”Dr. Horan! Get down!”

“Dr. Horan! Stop fighting!”

Suddenly realizing what this might sound like, and how the neighbors might think the good doctor’s name was being maligned, they sheepishly drew back inside, and let the cats work it out for themselves, as cats will eventually do.

Uncle George was quite the prankster. He and my aunt used to frequent a certain bar for a drink now and then. They were “regulars,” and went to hang out with friends. George was always coming up with something.

This one night, he got up from his bar stool, and made everyone move aside, saying, in a muffled kind of speech, “ ‘Scuse me..’scuse me…lost my false teeth… ‘ pardon me.. can’t find my teeth…”

He had the all the patrons at the bar off their stools looking for the damned teeth under the edge of the bar, when all the while, he’d merely shoved them out of place in his mouth, so he could sound like he had none, and play this trick on everyone.

And it wasn’t even April Fool’s day!

My grandfather was another jokester in the family. And he could say the most outrageous things with a perfectly straight face. If you didn’t know him, it might take you a while to realize he was joking.

This one day, he got a phone call from a fellow saying “Congratulations! You’ve won a session of dance lessons at Arthur Murray studios!” Yep--they had junk phone calls back then, too.

Grandpa didn’t miss a beat; he knew what the gig was, so he said, “Are you sure there isn’t some mistake?”

“Oh, no, sir, no mistake.”

“Really? Reed is a common name; you may have the wrong Mr. Reed.”

“I don’t think so, sir. Is this Mr. N.. Reed, of xxx street?”

“Yes, it is, but I still think there has been a terrible mistake. You see, I just got out of the hospital, and I’ve only got one leg.”

The poor fellow fell all over himself trying to back pedal and apologize; was totally flustered, and ended the call awkwardly.

Grandpa hung up and had a good belly laugh, for of course, there was nothing wrong with either of his legs, both of which were present and accounted for.

One of my aunts had a Boston Terrier. Among their traits is a supposedly finicky appetite.

I think this dog must have forgotten to read the manual, for one fine day, he was out in the yard, and came back in, all friendly, full of ‘doggie kisses,’ and had horrible breath!

What the heck? Another round of ‘doggie kisses,’ and the smell was identified. Garlic. Ugh.

Auntie looked out the window, and saw that the naughty boy had dug up and eaten all her garlic plants!

As if normal dog breath isn’t bad enough!

Photo and graphic credits:  Pixabay
Artwork:  Liz Elias © 9-5-4-15