Dad loved a good joke and loved a good story. Oh and by the way, Dad's hair wasn't greasy, he put stuff on it to keep it flat. Do you remember that he went to bed with a nylon stocking on his head? That was to keep it flat too.

Dad used to bring funny stuff home from work. He had an amazing laugh and loved to laugh with us. I kept a few of the things he brought home. Here is one of my favorites I'll share with you.

YOU'LL GET IT IN THE END

Upon arriving home in eager anticipation of a leisurely evening with the new issue of True (a magazine), the husband was met at the door by his sobbing wife. Tearfully she explained, "its the druggist . . . he insulted me terribly this morning on the phone." The husband drove downtown to accost the druggist and demand an apology. Before he could say more than a word or two, the druggist told him, "Now just a moment . . . listen to my side of the story first. This morning, the alarm failed to go off, so I was late getting up. I went without breakfast and hurried out to the car, but 'll be darned if I didn't lock both the house keys and car keys inside. I had to break a window to get my keys. Driving a little too fast, I got a ticket for speeding and then about three blocks from the store, I had a flat tire. When I finally got to the store, there was a large group of people waiting for me to open up. I got the store open and started waiting on the people when the darn phone started ringing. Then I had to break open a roll of nickels against the cash register to make change, and they spilled all over the floor. I got down on my hands and knees to pick them up . . . that darn phone ringing all the while. When I got up, I hit my head on the open register drawer which made my head reel and made me stagger against the showcase of perfume and half the bottles fell to the floor shattering to bits. The phone was still ringing and I finally answered it. It was your wife . . . she wanted to know how to use a rectal thermometer. AND I TOLD HER . . ."

I've had that story for years. It's great.

One year, I think I was in 9th grade, Dad invited me to go to work with him because they were having a Christmas party at work and I was out of school for Christmas break. Some of the guys he worked with were a little rough around the edges. The night before the party, we drove all the way downtown to a special novelty shop where dad purchased a "bottle of whiskey" for the gift exchange. I don't remember if it was for a specific person or if they just picked random gifts. Anyway, this bottle of whiskey looked like the real thing, a fifth of booze, but actually, it was filled with honey - the color of whiskey. Dad took great pride in wrapping it and putting it under the tree at work the next day.

I don't remember what happened with the whiskey bottle or who got it or what their reaction was, but I do remember what dad got. I was standing next to him when he opened it and I don't think he knew what to do with his 14 year old impressionable son standing there. He was so embarrassed! Someone had given him an ice cream cone with a very large pair of women's breasts (plastic) on top where ice cream would normally be.

He looked at it for a minute and then at me. I started lauging. He said "lets not say anything about this" and stuck it in a drawer in his desk. I never saw it again and I was never asked to join him for another office party.