Can't Take a Hint
Last year, when the power mower was broken and wouldn't run,
I kept hinting to my husband that he ought to get it fixed,
but somehow the message never sank in. Finally I thought of
a clever way to make the point.
When my husband arrived home that day, he found me seated
in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of
sewing scissors.
He watched silently for a short time and then went into the
house. He was gone only a few moments when he came out
again. He handed me a toothbrush. "When you finish cutting
the grass," he said, "you might as well sweep the sidewalk."
The doctors say he will probably live, but it will be quite a
while before the casts will come off!
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