Good ones, Flower.
A man in Phoenix calls his son in New York the day before
Thanksgiving and says, "I hate to ruin your day, but I have
to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five
years of misery is enough."
"Pop, what are you talking about?" the son screams.
"We can't stand the sight of each other any longer," the father
says. "We're sick of each other, and I'm sick of talking about
this, so you call your sister in Chicago and tell her."
Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone.
"Like **** they're getting divorced," she shouts, "I'll take
care of this," She calls Phoenix immediately, and screams at
her father, "You are NOT getting divorced. Don't do a single
thing until I get there. I'm calling my brother back, and we'll
both be there tomorrow. Until then, don't do a thing, DO YOU
HEAR ME?" and hangs up.
The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. "Okay," he
says, "they're coming for Thanksgiving and paying their own way."
