Humor

---

Allow me to put the record straight. It is not that I don't like this time of the year; it is simply that I don't like this time of the year. No other time is more aggravating to Yours Truly than good old Springtime.

I know exactly what you're thinking. I used to think that way myself.

As a young boy at home, I looked forward to spring with great anticipation. Springtime, in those days, meant school was almost over and summer was just about to spring, so get ready.

In my mind, nothing was quite as wonderful as those glorious summer days of long ago. Nothing to do and plenty of time to do it.

The beautiful thing about those days of summer, if you didn't finish loafing one day there was always another day.

I was so good at loafing that I had several days left over when school started in the fall.

Things have changed since those wonderful days of yore. Springtime has changed from the season for wishin' to the season for sneezin.'

Excuse me, "Aaaah ... aaaah ... aaaah ... choooo." Now, what did I do with those tissues?

Had I known how things were to develop, I would have put all my investments in tissue companies rather than that fabulous 8-track production company stock my financial adviser, H.R. Blockhead, recommended.

At last accounting, for every dollar I invested in that company I lost $18.

My financial advisoer still thinks it's only a matter of time before the stock goes up.

Actually, and don't tell him I said so, but I think it has already gone up - in smoke. But, I diverse, which is more than I can say for my investment portfolio.

Excuse me, "Aaaah ... aaaah ... aaaah ... choooo." Where are those tissues when I need them?

Is it me, or is the whole world suffering from fits of sneezing and wheezing? Not only am I sneezing but also my eyes are watery and itchy.

What I want to know is, where does all this water come from? Between my nose and my eyes, I am losing 27 gallons of fluid each and every hour.

It is not that I'm allergic to anything; I'm allergic to everything.

The parsonage is completely void of animals, thanks to the gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. No dogs, cats, birds (except for turkey) or goldfish. And, I haven't found a flea on my person for years.

The inside of our house is completely sterile and absolutely allergy free for all practical purposes. Anything that could possibly create an allergic reaction has been hunted down and destroyed.

The ones not found have left on their own accord rather than suffer death at the hands of the parson.

I like to think it has something to do with the signs I posted outside our house in both the front and back yards: "BEWARE OF PARSON WITH LYSOL SPRAY." And some other signs, which say: "HAVE LYSOL CAN, WILL SPRAY."

Believe me, I will use that spray can without any compunction of any kind.

Excuse me, "Aaaah ... aaaah ... aaaah ... choooo."

No matter how careful I am, I seem to come down with some level of sneezin' fits this time of the year. If I did not know better, and I may not, I would think my nose was conspiring against me.

If I did not need my nose to hold up my eyeglasses, I would turn it in for a pair of socks. After all, I did not pick this nose. It came with the face.

I have discovered several places where these sneezin' fits of mine are quite inconvenient. This is just a partial list.

Drinking hot coffee in a restaurant. This is the worse place, in my opinion.

It never fails, just when I'm about ready to take a sip of that refreshing hot liquid, I have a sneezin' fit with much of the coffee splashing onto my shirt, usually a new one. The hotter the coffee and the newer the shirt, the more violent the sneezin' fit. Go figure.

While driving in the car in heavy traffic. No matter how much medicine I take before I get into my car and drive, it never fails. Just when the traffic is the heaviest and I need to turn left, I get a sneezin' fit.

My sneezin' fits are very religious. They all come in sets of threes.

I wish someone would make windshield wipers for inside the car, especially when I have these sneezin' fits.

At the middle of an important point in my Sunday sermon.

These sneezin' fits come so suddenly I have only a fraction of a second to decide: do I spatter my pulpit Bible or do I spray everyone sitting on the front pew?

Decisions, decisions. What's a person to do?

When the sneezin' season hits me, all I want to do is sneeze, which interferes with much of what I would like to do. Especially reading. I did manage to read a bit in the Bible and was I glad I did.

I find that whenever I feel low, the Bible always picks me up. In the midst of my misery, God provides mercy.

One verse in particular brought me cheer. "But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord." (1 Corinthians 15:57-58 KJV.)

Believe me, that's nothing to sneeze at.

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE