Kloke ord og sitater for enhver anledning

The mess april 14, 2013

A man came home from work and found his 3 children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn around garden, The door of his wife’s car was open, as was the front door to the house and no sign of the dog, walking in the door, he found …an even bigger mess.

A lamp had been knocked over, the throw rug was against one wall, In the front room the… TV was on loudly with the cartoon channel, the family room was strewn with toys and various items of clothing. In the kitchen, dishes filled the sink, breakfast food was spilled on the counter, the fridge door was open wide, dog food was spilled on the floor, a broken glass lay under the table, and a small pile of sand was spread by the back door.

He quickly headed up the stairs, stepping over toys and more piles of clothes, looking for his wife. He was worried she might be ill, or that something serious had happened. He was met with a small trickle of water as it made its way out the bathroom door. As he peered inside he found wet towels, scummy soap and more toys strewn over the floor. Miles of toilet paper lay in a heap and toothpaste had been smeared over the mirror and walls.

As he rushed to the bedroom, he found his wife still curled up in the bed in her pajamas, reading a novel… She looked up at him, smiled and asked how his day went. He looked at her bewildered and asked, ‘What happened here today?’ She again smiled and answered, ‘You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world do I do all day?…
»Yes,» was his incredulous reply..

She answered, «Well, today I didn’t do it.»


Letter from mother to daughter

Letter from a Mother to a Daughter: «My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”… Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story… night after night until you would fall asleep. When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl? When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way… remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day… the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If I occasionaly lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you. And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked. When those days come, don’t feel sad… just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love. I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you… my darling daughter. «


The date

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, “I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.”

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally…


That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong, are you well?” she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.”


That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel’s. “I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, “she said, as she got into the car. “They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.”


We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation – nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other’s life. We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed.


“How was your dinner date?” asked my wife when I got home. “Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.


A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: “I paid this bill in advance. I wasn’t sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates – one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son.”


At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: “I LOVE YOU” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till “some other time.”


Mors beste barn november 18, 2011

Filed under: Barn,Dikt,Dyr,Mamma,Mor — gullkorn @ 11:05 pm

Sjølv om mange seier dei er snille,
er det vanskeleg å bli glad i ein krokodille.

Sjølv om mange seier dei er flotte,
er det vanskeleg å bli glad i ei rotte.

Sjølv om mange seier han er ein munter kropp,
er det vanskeleg å bli glad i ein edderkopp.

Sjølv om mange seier dei har gode genar,
er det vanskeleg å bli glad i hyenar.

Men eg, eg bråkar og herjar utan stopp.
Og likevel er eg mor sin aller beste knopp.

Forfatter: Finn Øglænd


En kopp «te» mars 23, 2011

Filed under: Barn,Datter,Far,Foreldre,Humor,Mamma,Mor,Pappa — gullkorn @ 12:10 pm

En far skulle være alene hjemme med sin datter på 2 1/2 år. Han satt i stua og hun kom og ga han en kopp «te», som var vann. Etter flere kopper med «te» til far, kom mor hjem. Far fikk mor til å se på mens datteren kom med enda en kopp te. Han drakk opp alt. Da sa mor, slik bare en mor kan si det: har det falt deg inn…. at det eneste stedet hun kan få tak i vann er i toalettet?


Kom mor, og sit ved senga mi januar 19, 2011

Filed under: Mamma,Mor — gullkorn @ 9:15 am

Kom, mor, og sit ved senga mi,
så vil eg dorma av eit grann,
og du skal smila, trygg og blid
og halda om mi hand

Og det skal verta kveld og natt
med såre verk og feberbrann,
men eg vil lata augo att
og dra mot nye land.

For du skal stryka panna mi,
med handa di så sval og kjær,
og eg skal mjukt i svevnen gli
i medan du er her

Kom nærare og ver hjå meg
sull songen din frå gamal tid,
så vil eg dra på draumeveg
med handa mi i di

(Av Aslaug Låstad Lygre)


Hansken oktober 30, 2010

Filed under: Bestemor,Datter,Farmor,Foreldre,Mamma,Medmenneskelighet,Minner,Mor,Mormor — gullkorn @ 3:40 am

Hva er det for en fremmed hånd
som ligger her i fanget mitt
med skrukkehud og årer?

Det er jo mammas gamle hånd
som leier aller trette barn
og tørker unge tårer

Nei hun er død
ja hun er død

Det er min egen hånd som nå
har gammel hanske på

men myke varme hender
som stryker barnekinn
er evig gjemt i hansken
i mammas
og i min

(Hilchen Sommerschild)