June 1, 2011
FW: Inspirational Speech From a 6 Year Old
You gotta love this kid’s passion. If your kids have fear of riding a bike this boy should inspire them to do better.
Archive for the ‘Children’ Category.
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May 18, 2011
FW: Sleepy Man Banjo Boys
Brothers Jonny Mizzone age 8 on banjo, Robbie Mizzone age 12 on fiddle, and Tommy Mizzone age 13 on guitar. It’s insane that anyone at that age can play those instruments that well!
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May 5, 2011
FW: Japanese Kids VS Zombie Prank
The subtitles on this youtube video alone are priceless! You gotta love kids!
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April 11, 2011
FW: Child Stand Up Comedian
This is a 11 year old boy doing stand up comedy at his school. I was really impressed. I loved his Justin Bieber joke =). Great job!!!
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March 6, 2011
FW: Children in Church
A little boy was in a relative’s wedding.
As he was coming down the aisle, he would take two steps,
Stop, and turn to the crowd.
While facing the crowd, he would put his hands up like claws and roar.
So it went, step, step, ROAR, step, step, ROAR, all the way down the aisle.
As you can imagine, the crowd was near tears from laughing so hard
By the time he reached the pulpit.
When asked what he was doing, the child sniffed and said,
“I was being the Ring Bear.”
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One Sunday in a Midwest City,
A young child was “acting up” during the morning worship hour.
The parents did their best to maintain some sense of order in the pew
But were losing the battle.
Finally, the father picked the little fellow up
And walked sternly up the aisle on his way out.
Just before reaching the safety of the foyer,
The little one called loudly to the congregation,
“Pray for me! Pray for me!”
——————————————————————————–
One particular four-year old prayed,
“And forgive us our trash baskets
As we forgive those who put trash in our baskets.”
——————————————————————————–
A little boy was overheard praying:
“Lord, if you can’t make me a better boy, don’t worry about it.
I’m having a real good time like I am.”
——————————————————————————–
The preacher was wired for sound with a lapel mike,
And as he preached, he moved briskly about the platform,
Jerking the mike cord as he went.
Then he moved to one side,
Getting wound up in the cord and nearly tripping before jerking it again.
After several circles and jerks,
A little girl in the third pew leaned toward her mother and whispered,
“If he gets loose, will he hurt us?”
——————————————————————————–
Six-year old Angie , and her four-year old brother, Joel,
were sitting together in church.
Joel giggled, sang and talked out loud.
Finally, his big sister had had enough.
“You’re not supposed to talk out loud in church.”
“Why? Who’s going to stop me?” Joel asked.
Angie pointed to the back of the church and said,
“See those two men standing by the door?
They’re hushers.”
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My grandson was visiting one day when he asked ,
“Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?”
I mentally polished my halo, while I asked,
“No, how are we alike?”
“You’re both old,” he replied.
——————————————————————————–
A ten-year old, under the tutelage of her grandmother,
was becoming quite knowledgeable about the Bible.
Then, one day, she floored her grandmother by asking,
“Which Virgin was the mother of Jesus ? The virgin Mary or the King James Virgin?”
——————————————————————————–
A Sunday school class was studying the Ten Commandments.
They were ready to discuss the last one.
The teacher asked if anyone could tell her what it was.
Susie raised her hand, stood tall, and quoted,
“Thou shall not take the covers off the neighbor’s wife.”
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March 4, 2011
FW: Star Wars According to a 3 Year Old
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February 6, 2011
FW: A Baby’s Hug
We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, “Hi.” He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.
I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.
We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.. “Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster,” the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, “What do we do?”
Erik continued to laugh and answer, “Hi.”
Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room,”Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.”
Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk.
My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.
We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. “Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,” I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby’s “pick-me-up” position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man.
Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man’s ragged shoulder. The man’s eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby’s bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.
I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, “You take care of this baby.”
Somehow I managed, “I will,” from a throat that contained a stone.
He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, “God bless you, ma’am, you’ve given me a great gift.”
I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, “‘My God, my God, forgive me.”
I had just witnessed Christ’s love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not.. I felt it was God asking, “‘Are you willing to share your son for a moment?” when He shared His for all eternity. How did God feel when he put his baby in our arms 2000 years ago.
The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, “To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.”
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December 24, 2010
FW: One Last Christmas
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December 14, 2010
FW: Dear Santa From Mom
Dear Santa,
I’ve been a good mom all year. I’ve fed, cleaned and cuddled my two children on demand, visited the doctor’s office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine patches onto my daughter’s girl scout sash with staples and a glue gun.
I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son’s red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I’ll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
I’d like a pair of legs that don’t ache after a day of chasing kids (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don’t flap in the breeze but are strong enough to carry a screaming toddler out of the candy aisle in the grocery store. I’d also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you’re hauling big ticket items this year I’d like a car with fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn’t broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.
On the practical side, I could use a talking daughter doll that says, “Yes, Mommy” to boost my parental confidence, along with one potty-trained toddler, two kids who don’t fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting, “Don’t eat in the living room” and ‘Take your hands off your brother,’ because my voice seems to be just out of my children’s hearing range and can only be heard by the dog. And please don’t forget the Playdoh Travel Pack, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for mothers of preschoolers. It comes in three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet making the in-laws’ house seem just like mine. If it’s too late to find any of these products, I’d settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container. If you don’t mind I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family; or if my toddler didn’t look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.
Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire so you don’t catch a cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don’t eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.
Yours Always…Mom.
P.S. – One more thing…you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.
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August 26, 2010
FW: Retarded Grandparents
After Christmas, a teacher asked her young pupils how they spent their holiday away from school. One child wrote the following:
We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in a big brick house but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Florida. Now they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on their bicycles and wear nametags because they don’t know who they are anymore.
They go to a building called a wrecked center, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, and do exercises there, but they don’t do them very well. There is a swimming pool too, but in it,they all jump up and down with hats on.
At their gate, there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out. They go cruising in their golf carts. Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And they eat the same thing every night — early birds.
Some of the people can’t get out past the man in the doll house. The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked center for pot luck.
My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the doll house. Then I will let people out so they can visit their grandchildren.