Sorry, Terry, but I don't really get this one!! Sorry!!

Very be3autiful write, (((Terry)))!! I love it!!♥

Goodnite!! Sleep well!!

This is the one I'm using now!!

Good write, (((Terry)))

A first-grade teacher, Ms. Brooks, was having trouble with one of her students.

The teacher asked, 'Harry, what's your problem?'


Harry answered, 'I'm too smart for the 1st grade. My sister is in the 3rd grade and I'm smarter
than she is! I think I should be in the 3rd grade too!'


Ms. Brooks had had enough. She took Harry to the principal's office.


While Harry waited in the outer office, the teacher explained to the principal what the situation was.

The principal told Ms.. Brooks he would give the boy a test. If he failed to answer any of his questions he was to go back to the 1st grade and behave. She agreed.

Harry was brought in and the conditions were explained to him and he agreed to take the test.


Principal:
'What is 3 x 3?'

Harry:
'9.'


Principal:
'What is 6 x 6?'


Harry:
'36.'

And so it went with every question the principal thought a 3rd grader should know.

The principal looks at Ms. Brooks and tells her,
'I think Harry can go to the 3rd grade.'


Ms. Brooks says to the principal,
'Let me ask him some questions.'

The principal and Harry both agreed.

Ms. Brooks asks, 'What does a cow have four of that I have only two of?'


Harry, after a moment: 'Legs.'


Ms Brooks: 'What is in your pants that you have but I do not have?'


The principal wondered why would she ask such a
question!


Harry replied: 'Pockets.'


Ms. Brooks: 'What does a dog do that a man steps into?'


Harry:
'Pants.'


Ms. Brooks: What starts with a C, ends with a T, is hairy, oval, delicious and contains thin, whitish liquid?'

Harry:
'Coconut.'


The principal sat forward with his mouth hanging open.

Ms. Brooks:
'What goes in hard and pink then comes out soft and sticky?'

The principal's eyes opened really wide and before he could stop the answer, Harry replied, 'Bubble
gum.'

Ms. Brooks: 'What does a man do standing up, a woman does sitting down and a dog
does on three legs?'


Harry: 'Shake hands.'

The principal was trembling.


Ms. Brooks: 'What word starts with an 'F' and ends in 'K' that means a lot of heat and excitement?'

Harry:
'Firetruck.'

The principal breathed a sigh of relief and told the teacher,
'Put Harry in the fifth-grade, I got the last seven questions wrong.....'

Thank you!!

When I go out for my walks, she waits by the door for me!!♥ Then she will follow me wherever I go in the house!!

Thank you!! I can't always, but sometimes something comes to me!!

Very nice write, (((Terry)))

Beautiful write, (((Terry))), but sad

I know, it's funny!!

I am!! I hope you are as well!

I don't anymore!!

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.
Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch.. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers"(invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one,but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless (God I should have gone to the gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake..
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance".
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more..
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That will have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don'tKNOW what kind of diseases you could get".
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.
You're e-x-h-a-u-s-t-e-d.
You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, .....so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this".
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom.
Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"..................


This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse, and hand you Kleenex under the door!!

Thanx so much!!

I'll keep you in my thoughts tomorrow GL!!

Hi, (((Wanda)))!! How are you this fine day?? I'm doing great!!

YQW!!