Silly things that have happened to you

I am just the right height that when I'm in the kitchen and get too close to the counter, the cabinet door knobs under the sink leap out and get stuck in my pockets, bringing the door flying open and me coming to a sudden stop. Kind of hard to explain but if I'm drying dishes or putting something into the sink it seems to happen all the time.

It was kind of funny the first 100 or so times not so much any more.
Dont despair I'm a bit taller I reckon and still have that problem. I get stuck with the cargo pockets of my shorts on the doorknobs under the sink.
Once I was moving a bit more forceful and couldn't stop when I felt resistance. Did the pocket tear? Nope. The new cabinet door, which is a wooden frame with a board in it, tore into pieces.
 
Yeah, here's to thoughtful revenge for Mickey Mouse ears - LOVED IT. KUDOS TO WIFE'S SENSE OF HUMOUR. Revenge aged 25 years ... that's just awesome.

Truly thoughtful. I might be very thoughtful as to what retaliation might result ??? Keep us posted if you are able.

***

Oops ... you guys and your experiences just bring back more thoughts ...

Number one ... I love that age allows humour to rise to the top, pride and pain to drop to the bottom ...

I was a teenager on the farm when my pet tabby (special to me among the lot of barn cats) went missing. The farm was on the Dundas Highway, sounds high speed and vehicular but at the time was a two lane highway leading to Toronto, the big city.

The discovered sad body of the tabby, flattened dry and thin on the highway, totally devastated me.

I scraped her off the pavement with a flat-mouthed shovel, bawling my eyes out. I buried her on the property. Much ceremony and open grieving.

Three days later, my dear tabby cat came home.

To this day, I am still working on this life lesson. I think that this is what life experience is about.

Hold what sticks to your mind close. It will be important for you as the days ahead unfold. If it can be found funny at all, it will buoy you forever.

So often we need humour. 'tis a tough world and we need to laugh. Especially at ourselves.

So enjoying this thread. Thanks ...
 
Number one ... I love that age allows humour to rise to the top, pride and pain to drop to the bottom ...

So often we need humour. 'tis a tough world and we need to laugh. Especially at ourselves.

So enjoying this thread. Thanks ...

:thumbup::D

I'll keep you posted :p
 
This summer I had an ant problem in my house and they would frequently get on my feet and startle the heck out of me while watching TV.

I was making a sandwich one day and one the SOB's got on my foot and I tried to kick it off, kicking the lower cabinets and kicking my way across the kitchen. When I finally got it off, I picked up the twist tie that had slipped off the counter and landed on my foot. My wife appreciated the show.
 
The Gravity of the situation;

Back when my oldest daughter was about 4 years old, we were down visiting my in-laws and behind the house was a steep hill, about a 15 foot drop that the kids would slide down on in the snow on sleds, cardboard and the like. My daughter had a snowmobile suit on and slid down the hill on her belly, laughing like crazy.

THEN, she stood up, turned around and fell down again, trying to slide back UP the hill, no clue that it wouldn't work, it worked the first time right? So why shouldn't she be able to slide back up?

Made me laugh so hard when we saw what her intentions were and had to explain that she would have to walk back up in order to slide down again...

Gravity, lesson learned ;)
G2
 
Spent a huge amount of time and overtime at work during a big storm one weekend.

Picked up the phone in my office, put the handset to my ear and started banging out numbers on the keyboard of the calculator next to the phone in an attempt to dial a number.

When I realized what I'd done, I figured I'd better finally call it a shift and get home for some sleep.

Ran home, picked up the phone to call in, and dialed "9" to get an outside line. :yawn::confused:
 
I'm sure I'll think of one of my own to share soon, but I must share a story about my aunt at Christmas that still brings me to tears (laughter) when I think about it.

It was Christmas Eve, late in the evening and we were all watching a movie. My aunt was sitting in a recliner with her arm resting on her head and her hand hanging down.
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At one point she turned her head and her fingers brushed the side of cheek. A sensation she was apparently not expecting. Her eyes opened as wide as they could, every muscle tensed, she screamed bloody murder and almost fell out of her chair.

I watched this all happen from across the room from beginning to end in ultra slow motion. As if it were on a phantom cam.

She has a great sense of humor and immediately started to laugh at herself upon realizing what had happened. Good, because I was already slumped over in the floor. A weeping, hysterical mess crippled by side pains and a choking, airless sort of silent laughter.

Poor woman. Attacked by her own hand.
 
Many years ago, my two brothers and I came home on Easter weekend.
My dear Mother, to mark the occasion, had bought us all matching sports coats......including my Father. She wanted us all presentable at Church. My Father was 6'5', I'm 6'6" and my two younger brothers are 6'3" and 6'5". So here we are, my Mother proudly beaming, a wall of Grey Plaid filling the second row at Church.

Now for some reason, being brothers, we still revert back to childhood silliness and sitting in Church seemed to amplify it.
As if we didn't feel goofy enough in our matching sport coats, I look over at my youngest brother reaching for the hymnal.
He had neglected to remove the label/price tag off the sleeve of his new sports coat. My other brother spotted it at the same time and we both slunk down in the pew in a subdued fit of giggles.

My Mother, elbows my Father to get control of his unruly grown sons. He gives us "that look" and then sees why we are laughing. He smiles, reaches in his front pants pocket and pulls out his pocket knife. He reaches out to pass the knife to my brother so he can remove the label. I look down at my Father's outstretched arm..........and he too has failed to remove the label. That's when the four of us.......LOST IT. My Mother was horrified and our only option was to leave her sitting in the pew while we all stepped out to compose ourselves.

My Brothers and I have families of our own now. Grandkids in my case. This story has been told over and over renewing the laughter each time it's told :D
 
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So, just to make a long story short: Don't wait until the last minute before you run to the men's and try to use the urinal when you are wearing longjohns in addition to your normal underwear and pants!! You would not think one extra layer could add so much complexity to the situation. I also think the tucked in shirt was a problem.
 
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I supervised an engineering office for an electric utility. My boss had a thing about notes attached to the front of work orders. He wanted any excess paper trimmed at the bottom so that the work order was visible underneath. I had a newly transferred engineer who had a fairly complicated first job assignment so the work order was rather complex. He nervously handed the work order to me, his first, and had a note on it on a full sheet of paper. I was on the phone, saw the note, and without a word to him grabbed my scissors to trim the note, and proceeded to cut note, work order, materials list, and job prints in half. When I realized what I had done, I was momentarily at a loss for words and just handed the halves back to him. He said, "D***, I didn't think it was that bad!"
 
A couple months back I had to attend a funeral for a good neighbor and it was held in a building I used to manage the physical plant over 25 years ago. I have good memories of the job, when I got back into the pickup I reached for the floor shift of the manual transmission of a truck I have not driven for over 23 years.
 
Nice thread Gary, I've really enjoyed the stories so far.
I do have one to share and like they say, if you can't laugh at your self....don't laugh at others.

My brother and I shared an apartment back in the mid 90s and we camped a lot...a heck of a lot!
Anyway, Fridays after work I'd stop at Costco and pick up a package of Tyson roasted chicken breasts then get a tub of potato salad and we'd be set for dinner for the weekend.
So, late Friday evenings we'd get to the happy camping grounds and set up camp before digging in to the chicken and ps.
By the time we'd get camp set up it would be dark though and we'd eat by fire and lantern light.
Well I had my paper plate full of chicken and potato salad and needed to get something out of the cooler so I got up and set my plate on my chair seat.(which was in shadow I must say)
Upon my return to the chair I set myself down without thinking and sat in the plate of potato salad and chicken.:eek:
One cheek on the potato salad and the other cheek on the chicken.:eek:
It's a good thing I always had a spare pair of britches in my camping bag.

After that you'd think I'd of learned to look before setting down, but nope, I did the same thing the next Friday, doh!:grumpy::eek:

I hate to say it took two instances of potato salad in the seat of the pants to remember to look before setting down in camp, but I'm happy to say the seat of my britches have stayed clean (relatively) from then on.:thumbup: :D

Merry Christmas all! :)
 
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It made my day to realize I'm not the only one that try's to zoom the print on magazines like an iPad!!!😆😆😆😆
 
During the summer I work 7 days per week sometimes 10-14 hour days so I leave early and get dressed sleepy most mornings,,, this summer I knew I had pushed it to hard when tying my hiking boot I realized that morning I had put on two different boots !,,, this was around noon!!!
 
Way back when we were 12 or 13 years old, a group of us rode our bicycles out to the river about 6 miles from town for a day of fishing and goofing off in the river. Late that afternoon, we noticed a blue norther moving in.

For those not from Texas, a blue norther is a cold front that moves in during the summer or fall that literally looks like a massive blue-black wall of clouds and drops the air temperature 20 to 30 degrees in minutes. It is preceded with down-draft winds of 30 to 40 mph.

We packed up and started back asap as none of us wanted to be caught out in one. It is cold, wet and nasty to be caught in. As Boy Scouts, we tried to be prepared for anything and we all had our ponchos.The leading edge of the rain started to catch us, so we stopped and put on our ponchos. We had also learned with experimentation, that you could use a poncho like a sail on a bike.

I noticed that the wind was pushing on my poncho pretty good, so I spread it out and made a "sail". That wind got me up to 20 or 25 mph. The road, being a typical Texas Farm to Market road, had numerous 90 degree turns as the roads followed property lines. We had 8 or 9 of us strung out like a row of cattle heading home to the barn. We had to slow down for each turn, but then we could use the wind to get us back up to speed with very little effort and maintain decent speeds. With luck, we would make it home before we got TOO soaked.

Everything was going along "just swimmingly" until I came to another one of those 90 degree turns. I dropped my poncho edges, grabbed for the handle bars and hit the brakes. You know, those old fashioned Bendix brakes, that engaged the lock mechanism in the rear axle? NOT the fancy grip-style hand brakes on the handle bars, known back then as "ten-speed brakes". The kind of brakes that only work when you peddle backwards and the chain pushes backwards on the rear axle hub, engaging the brake. They work great, very much better than hand-grip brakes in wet weather. Only one thing - the chain has to be mounted to work. OOOPPPSSSS.

When I hit the brakes, the chain popped off and NOOO BRAKES!!!!! I could not slow down in the least. I flew off the road at 20+ mph, ending up rolling ass over tea kettle across a wet, plowed field with a bicycle rolling over me. No broken bones, just a lot of scrapes and bruises and a bicycle wheel that made a pretzel look straight. The guys stopped to see if I was OK and then took off for home. I started carrying my disabled bicycle home, still about 3 miles away, by now soaked through and through, covered in mud.

About 20 minutes later, a old pick-up rolled up. It was my best friend and his father. Michael's house was the first one the group came to, and as luck would have it, Michael's father happened to be home. His father was almost never home as he was one of 4 doctors in town, but for some reason, Dr. Leshikar had decided to come home for supper that evening rather than eating something from the hospital kitchen like he usually did. (Aside - the hospital was owned by the 4 doctors and one of the ways they made sure that the food was good was that they all ate at least 1 meal a day at the hospital.)

We loaded up my bike, went to Michael's house and then I got a check up from the doctor, followed by a lift home. No bill was ever received. That's just the way it was back then in a rural farming community.

Lesson learned? Well, DON'T slam on the brakes real hard if you haven't checked how loose the chain is.:D That's how we found out that chains can "stretch" a little with use, becoming loose in the process. Tight enough to do the job, but capable of failing under stressful use.

I still prefer Bendix brakes to hand grip brakes. Just can't find them any more as every thing has gone to multi-gear systems.
 
Nice guys and gals always good to smile, even if it is at ourselves :)
G2
 
I still prefer Bendix brakes to hand grip brakes. Just can't find them any more as every thing has gone to multi-gear systems.

I remember those Bendix brakes! That's the only kind I ever had until I was well into adulthood and got a 5-speed bike. I managed to get used to the hand grip brakes pretty quickly, unless I was startled by a squirrel darting out in the street or something and tried to stop fast. Then muscle memory would take over, and I'd try to stop by reversing the pedals, they'd spin freely and come around to bang me in the shin!
 
I rented a room (subleased) from a buddy at a small 2 bedroom one bath house. I was in my twenties. One night I entered the house believing it should be empty, heard the floor boards creak in my room. I peaked down the hallway and saw my door shutting slowly. I grabbed a framing hammer that was close, claw out, ran towards my room, flung open my door, almost sunk it into my buddy's skull, thinking he was an intruder. He screamed in terror as I was also shaking from the adrenaline. He was placing a Black Velvet poster girl life size stand up in my room as part of a prank. I interrupted his effort. He had pulled his truck into the back yard, so I thought our humble rural shack was empty. I was proud of myself for defending my space. I almost ran out of the house when I knew for sure someone was in my room. Hind sight, I had little of value at that time in my life, there was nothing to steal, it would have been a smarter safer thing to do.
 
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