Today we send out birthday wishes to our daughter-in-law Sherrie. She's been a part of the Abbott Clan for over 32 years. We thank God for her, the calling He has on her life as a wife to our Chris, and as a mom, grandmother, and servant of the Living God. May He continue to bless is our prayer. Our love, Mom, and Dad
I know many of you thought that I would have trouble getting to this day. (Cue up the music to Sleeping Single in a Double Bed.) I appreciate those who considered putting out one of those Silver Alert missing elderly notifications for my wife. But, it is
Friday, and I am still able to bid each one a hearty hello on this
July 27, 2018. I couldn't go along with the silver alert because she has been in a disclosed location and I don't think they would have accepted it anyway since we do not have one of those full-size Ford Crown Victoria cars. You know the one I'm talking about. It looks like a large boat mounted on wheels floating down the highway. I mention that because on most of those silver alert signs they almost always are driving one of these types of cars. I'm only kidding. If you have one of those cars, well, God bless you. The wife, who was once known as She Who Must Be Obeyed, (SWMBO), will be sleeping in her own bed tomorrow night, Lord willing, and all their connections work out. The SWMBO comes from a British comedy series, 'Rumpole of the Bailey', about a barrister who called his wife by that name, under his breath, of course. His wife's daddy had been the head of chambers so she was always pushing Rumpole to climb the ladder. He was a larger than life curmudgeonly fellow who truly cared more about truth and justice than playing office politics. We watched those programs for several years and so did our across the driveway neighbor, our dearly beloved, Ruth, who has gone on to her reward. She and the wife threatened on more than one occasion to order them t-shirts emblazoned with SWMBO. No wonder people look at me and shake their heads. Maybe I should consider a silver alert for myself.
For my new segment, Flashback Friday, here's one of my favorites that I wrote about 10 years ago. ~ "A famous Houston lawyer got into politics and eventually was elected governor of our state. (The Honorable Mark White.) He would occasionally eat lunch with his associates at the Houston Club where I often ate as well. This guy really thought he knew me. I’m not just saying he was always greeting me but it was different. I don’t know if he thought we went to school together or what, but he always made a big deal out of it when he saw me at the club. This, of course, made quite an impression on the people who were with me. It was uncanny. I would tell my family about how he treated me like I was his long-lost brother and they would give me that, "okay, sure dad", condescending, "you are most likely exaggerating again" look. Then it happened. We were on our way as a family to a reunion or something out of town and were in a multi-car caravan. About sixty miles outside the metroplex we all stopped for dinner. It was a catfish restaurant. We got situated with two or three tables pushed together. Guess who walks in? None other than my long lost friend, the now ex-governor, and he spots me across the room. He immediately came to our table and nearly embraced me as he also recognized my family, and talked about how wonderful it was to see us all and then excused himself. Everyone sat there dazed. I didn’t have to say I told you so because on that day the authenticity of my storytelling was raised to a whole new level." ~
Some of you would like to know how much I need to get done before the wife parks her car in our garage once again. I will not go into any details here, but, suffice it to say, my Saturday morning is more than occupied. Does anyone know if it is permissible to use a rake inside the house? Wait a minute. I meant that to be a blower, not a rake. That's okay. I'll figure it out. What was that? Listen, I already know that using a water hose inside the house is not a good idea. Some of you must think I don't have a clue. I'm not quite as bad as the fellow who said his idea of doing housework was lifting his leg to let her vacuum. I can identify with the sentiment I heard, "I had to do something about that sticky floor in the kitchen so I finally broke down and put on some slippers." The late comedian Phyllis Diller confessed she had buried a lot of the ironing in the backyard. One last quip that sums up my attitude pretty well, "My idea of housework is to sweep the entire room with a glance." My wife used to think my mother used white gloves to check up on how well she was cleaning. I never agreed with that, but, I do give her permission to use black gloves to check up on my cleaning. See how flexible I am? Thanks for hanging in there with me this week. I do hope you have a great Saturday and don't forget it's called Lord's Day Sunday for a reason. (I knew some of you would wonder. It's because it belongs to Him!) Take care, and, remember to be thankful for all that God has provided.
Amen. .....More later.
I know many of you thought that I would have trouble getting to this day. (Cue up the music to Sleeping Single in a Double Bed.) I appreciate those who considered putting out one of those Silver Alert missing elderly notifications for my wife. But, it is Friday, and I am still able to bid each one a hearty hello on this July 27, 2018. I couldn't go along with the silver alert because she has been in a disclosed location and I don't think they would have accepted it anyway since we do not have one of those full-size Ford Crown Victoria cars. You know the one I'm talking about. It looks like a large boat mounted on wheels floating down the highway. I mention that because on most of those silver alert signs they almost always are driving one of these types of cars. I'm only kidding. If you have one of those cars, well, God bless you. The wife, who was once known as She Who Must Be Obeyed, (SWMBO), will be sleeping in her own bed tomorrow night, Lord willing, and all their connections work out. The SWMBO comes from a British comedy series, 'Rumpole of the Bailey', about a barrister who called his wife by that name, under his breath, of course. His wife's daddy had been the head of chambers so she was always pushing Rumpole to climb the ladder. He was a larger than life curmudgeonly fellow who truly cared more about truth and justice than playing office politics. We watched those programs for several years and so did our across the driveway neighbor, our dearly beloved, Ruth, who has gone on to her reward. She and the wife threatened on more than one occasion to order them t-shirts emblazoned with SWMBO. No wonder people look at me and shake their heads. Maybe I should consider a silver alert for myself.
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