Christmas is Coming JOW #434

Some seasonal thoughts.
You know you are getting old when Santa starts looking younger.
Garrison Keillor of Prairie Home Companion said this about Christmas: "The lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together."
"The one thing a woman does not want to find in her stocking on Christmas morning is her husband." - Phyllis Diller.
From Bart Simpson - "Aren't we forgetting the true meaning of Christmas? You know, the birth of Santa?"

Here are some kid jokes
Two young boys were spending the night at their grandparents. At bedtime, the
two boys knelt beside their beds to say their prayers when the youngest one
began praying at the top of his lungs, "I PRAY FOR A NEW BICYCLE. I PRAY
FOR A NEW NINTENDO. I PRAY FOR A NEW VCR..."
His older brother leaned over and nudged the younger brother and said, "Why
are you shouting your prayers? God isn't deaf." To which the little brother
replied, "No, but Gramma is!"
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Little Tim was in the garden filling in a hole when his neighbor peered over the fence. Interested in what the cheeky-faced youngster was up to, he politely asked, "What are you up to there, Tim?"
"My goldfish died," replied Tim tearfully, without looking up, "and I’ve just buried him."
The neighbor was concerned, "That’s an awfully big hole for a goldfish, isn’t it?"
Tim patted down the last heap of earth then replied, "That’s because he’s still inside your cat!"

Mary Ellen provided this story. I think it applies and thus I am granting it the status of a joke.

My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years but hadn't been blessed with a baby. I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that, if he would give us a child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide. God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son. The next year God blessed us with another son. The following year, He blessed us with yet another son. The year after that we were blessed with a daughter. My husband thought we'd been blessed right into poverty.
We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old. I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it. As a minister once told me, "If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella." I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs. I was off to a good start. God had entrusted me with four children, and I didn't want to disappoint.
I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks.
I tried to be understanding... when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours to catch all twenty-three frogs.
When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess.
In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for my children.
While I couldn't keep my promise to be a perfect mother, I didn't even come close... I did keep my promise to raise them with His word. I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were going to church to worship, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to "wash up" Jesus, too.
Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his "last wife."
My proudest moment came during the children's Christmas pageant. My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest son was a wise man. This was their moment to shine.
My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, "We found the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes." But he was nervous and said, "The baby was wrapped in wrinkled clothes." My four-year-old "Mary" said, "That's not 'wrinkled clothes,' silly. That's dirty, rotten clothes."
A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd, which was stopped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost her left wing.
I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced down the aisle crying, "Mama-mama." Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived.
My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger and announced, "We are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur."
The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation. "I've never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one," laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes. "For the rest of my life, I'll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common sense and fur."

"My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing," I said as I dug through my purse for an aspirin.
-Author Unknown