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  Humor stories > Funny stories : A walk down the hall

A walk down the hall

Funny stories Rating : 5.00, 14 votes. Reviews : 2 [add review]

My wife works at a hospital as an x-ray tech and her work hours are strange from time to time. Friday evening she would have to be at work at six o’clock p.m. and would stay on call and in the hospital till Sunday evening till six o’clock p.m. Being on call for that time does not require her to stay at the hospital all night long, but living forty miles away from work does not give her the freedom to leave and sleep in her own bed at night when the hospital could call any given moment and require her services. That being said, weekends I’m the one who takes care of the kids. Not to say that I don’t do this during the week, but I am the parent for the weekend. I feed the kids, I get the kids clothed, I change the diapers and I clean the house. Even though my wife might argue the later, I have been known to tidy up a bit now and then. Not to her satisfaction, but cleaning has never been a strong point of mine. Just ask my mother. My two kids seem to have followed in my footsteps, believing if the path is not obstructed, then cleaning is not necessary.
So, weekends usually gave the kids and even dad time to kick back and relax. This didn’t go so well when the wife arrived on Sunday evening after working all weekend, up during the nights after seeing countless of patients that have been shot, stabbed, drinking and driving accidents, rapes, drug overdoses, wife beatings, and husband beatings (yes, this is however south Mississippi and some of these women are tough). Seeing the house in such disarray would usually set her off and bring out a person in her that I did not marry. So, the kids and I would be very quite until she was through with her rant.
Now, it didn’t take long to realize that even a little bit of cleaning before she got home would keep her from exploding into a fireball of madness. Cleaning then became a last minute race to the finish line, with me guiding the kids to and from their rooms with armloads of toys, papers, colors, shoes, socks, clothes and other things that were dropped where they were when they were no longer needed. Then when the moment came and she’d walk through the door and see us standing there in military attention awaiting her response. The kids and I would be smiling as to say “look at what we did for you.” Me being a grown man, standing next to my two kids welcoming their mother home after a long hard weekend, I digress and become that kid standing next to my own wanting her approval more than the kids themselves. It took a while for me to realize and come to the conclusion that the kids I raise will mock the actions I make.
On one of these weekends, while mom is away, Jordan between two and two and a half, she is still in diapers. Training was getting better and we occasionally fit her with training pull-ups. This is a Saturday and mom is away, so I choose not to use pull ups because Jordan feels like she is old enough to start doing things herself and I am not ready to finish the job she starts and does not quite do so well. Now, I will give her an “A” for effort but me being a kind of person with a light stomach that seams to turn with the slightest wind, I do not want to clean up a big mess she would make and the potential mess I soon could give up myself.
Barrett, the older brother by seven years is in his room doing whatever it is that nine year olds do. Watching television or playing one of his countless video games he has. Jordan has disappeared into the back room, which happens to be mine and my wife’s bedroom. Not thinking about it, she usually lets you know what is going on by the sounds being made. Like toys that beep, dolls that say things or the occasional stuffed bunny rabbit singing “hippidy-hop do-da song” over and over again until the batteries run down and it sounds like Louis Armstrong singing in a drunken state. As I recall, I was in the living room doing some fatherly duties, like playing an Xbox 360 game. It could not have been more than ten minutes Jordan was in the back room when I heard, “BAM, then silence…... BAM, once again silence….., BAM. At this moment I realize the pounding sounds are coming from the hallway joining the bedrooms together. The sound is getting closer and Jordan is about to appear before me in the hallway at the cased opening leading into the living room. When she finally emerges I had a few questions for her, though I thought. It turned into many questions. Obviously, it started with “what are you doing?” I have not looked up yet, and I’m still engrossed in my game on the television set, when she says “nothing, just playing.” Regular playing does not sound like that, so I look up and first thing I notice is that she is no longer wearing the diaper we managed to get her into earlier, but standing half naked with nothing on but a shirt. Well, that would be the second question. “Jordan, where is your diaper?” Back there.” she said with a stuttering voice. Then I notice one of my Birkenstock sandals in her hand. Not in her hand as if toting it with hand grasped to it, but hand slipped into it as if her hand was a foot. Now I am a playful person and I believe as a kid I have put my own hands into a shoe or boot and walked around on all fours just out of boredom, but she had just one sandal and it didn’t take much thinking to realize that the bam, bam, bam sound was her walking with her hands on the hallway wall. It didn’t come to me at first, with the diaper missing, but it has not been the first time the diaper has come up missing and was found in different places. Now at this moment there happened to be an undeniable odor resonating from the hall from which she was standing. I knew this odor and didn’t like doing what was required of me next. Little did I know, it was much worse. Forfeiting the game I was currently engaged in, I stood up and proceeded in her direction. “Did you take your diaper off?” I asked her in a stern voice. “Yes, I had to go…” she replied. Then upon finding the diaper I found that there was nothing in it. I did smell the deed, but did not see it. Something had been there. The odor was just too strong. After examining the diaper I turned to her standing there with sandal in hand. The smell was not coming from the diaper, but the footwear that was currently on her left hand. As I discovered the substance that used to be in the diaper was now on the bottom of my shoe. Apparently she had taken the diaper off, slipped on the sandal and proceeded to step onto the soiled diaper as it were a floor mat. Now my stomach had started churning the moment I smelled the odor, but with her being two and a half, I have become somewhat sensitized from changing many diapers. Now, cleaning the sandal would not be that bad, because we have dogs outside and have occasionally I have stepped into the dog’s business from time to time. Just simply walk around in the tall grass dragging your feet and letting the ground take it off naturally. Then I realized that the bam, bam, bam earlier was made with that sandal. When I looked at hallway wall, my jaw dropped. There were perfect footprints on the wall leading from our bedroom to the living room. My stomach got worse. I did not want to yell, but the words “what in the world did you do?” came from within my gagging voice. Now with instant anger come stupid questions like the one I just asked her. What in the world did you do? Was that not apparent with what was given. The evidence was actually in hand. She was Guilty, but an innocent little child showing and expressing her own artwork. Two and a half years old and not old enough to realize what she had done, she was proud and smiling at me and presenting me with her masterpiece. Then and there I curbed my anger, because the face she gave me was all too familiar. It was the same face we all gave her mother every Sunday evening. “Look what I did for you.”

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Rating : 5.00, 14 votes. Reviews : 2 [add review]

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