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An absent-minded husband thought he had conquered his problem of trying to remember his wife's birthday and their anniversary. He opened an account with a florist, provided that florist with the dates and instructions to send flowers to his wife on these dates along with an appropriate note signed, "Your loving husband."

His wife was thrilled by this new display of attention and all went well until next year, on their anniversary, when he came home, kissed his wife and said off-handedly, "Nice flowers, honey. Where'd you get them?"

*Elf Pet Peeves*

7. Toil for 364 days a year just to make children smile and no one gives a rip. Meanwhile, frolic around one day in some stupid outfit in February with a lousy bow and arrow and all of a sudden you're a hero.

6. Company health plan doesn't cover tattoo removal.

5. The EPA's new relaxed reindeer-emissions standards.

4. Icy cold North Pole temperature makes it hard to produce quality workmanship.

3. Reindeer game #12: Elf lacrosse.

2. Constantly ridiculed for that 0-854 record in the North Pole basketball league.

1. Jolly Ole Santa has never yet brought back a single cookie to share.

Once my wife and I had to take a flight that had 4 other stops before arriving at the Dallas-Forth Worth Airport. At the first stop, a little white truck drove up to the plane and my wife watched it pull up to the wing. She asked, "What's that truck doing?"

I explained that some airlines don't completely fuel up a plane for various reasons & we were taking on more fuel. This process was repeated at the next three stops, and my wife watched the plane being fueled each time.

At the last stop, I said, "Ya know, in spite of all these delays, we're making pretty good time."

My wife pointed out the window and said, "I don't know. That lil' white truck is keeping up with us.

My sister has the courage--but not always the skills--to tackle any home-repair project.

For example, in her garage are pieces of a lawnmower she once tried to fix. So I wasn't surprised the day my other sister, Dianne, and I found our sister attacking her vacuum cleaner with a screwdriver.

"I can't get this thing to cooperate," she explained when she saw us.

"Why don't you drag it out to the garage and show it the lawnmower?" Dianne suggested.