Stormy weather

It was a dark and stormy night.

A small country house is being hammered by a vicious Midwestern storm. The house shivers in the brutal wind. Lightning flashes and thunder rolls.

A middle-aged woman and her teenage son sit nervously in front of the TV, watching the severe weather alert scroll across the screen. During a lull in the wind, the woman suddenly raises her head.

Mom: What was that?!
Son (alarmed by her tone): What?
Mom: That sound!!
Son (pauses for a moment to listen, then whispers): I don't hear anything.

For a moment there is silence. Then, in the distance, a thin wail can be heard in the night before the storm comes back in full force.

Mom: There! That!
Son (confused): It sounded like a train whistle.
Mom (getting excited): Yes! A train! They say that a tornado sounds like a train! Maybe it's a tornado! Maybe we should go to the basement!

Long pause.

Son: Mom...I'm pretty sure that a tornado doesn't sounds like a train whistle.
Mom: What?
Son: A tornado doesn't sound like a train whistle. They say it sounds like the rumble of a speeding train.

Long pause while mom processes this information.

Mom: Are you sure? Maybe they DO mean that it sounds like a train whistle.
Son: Mom, what do you think? That a tornado goes "woooo woooo" as it races willy nilly through a trailer park?
Mom (suddenly unsure but not willing to back down): Well...it could. In the dark, a tornado could make sort of a high-pitched squeeeeeal as it...ya know...twirls.

Son (stares at her in disbelief, not sure if she is serious): So...you picture a tornado as a twirling, squealing thing that races around at night going "woo woo"?
Mom (not willing to admit she is wrong, she turns back to the severe weather alert on TV): Never mind...
Son: No, really?
Mom (trying to distract him by pointing at TV screen): Look, the worst of the storm has passed us by.

Long pause

Son: Seriously? Sort of like a pig in a tutu, twirling and squealing and raising his hoofs overhead to "woo woo"?
Mom: Shut up.
Son ROFL.
Mom: I said, "shut up". the storm is over.
Son (raising hands overhead as he dances from the room): Woo woo!
Mom: This is the reason that some mothers eat their young.

Being grilled

Husband and wife are outside on their old-fashion porch getting ready to grill hamburgers for dinner. The grill is clearly the husband's domain and wife is clearly happy it is so. He bustles around with the preparations while she reclines comfortably in a lawn chair and stares off into the distance.

Husband, cooking happily at the grill: "Don't worry -- I know that you like your poor, defenseless burger cooked to the appearance of a charcoal briquette."

Wife, so relaxed that she is barely blinking: "Thank you, dear."

Husband, flipping a burger: "Do you want cheese on your burger?"

Wife, speaking low and lazy: "What kind of cheese?"

Husband , turning to face her: "I don't know. It's cheeeeeeeese. Do you want some?"

Wife, suspiciously: "Is it REAL cheese?"

Husband: "Of course it's 'real' cheese!"

Wife, trying to see the cheese package without moving from comfy chair: "What color is it?"

Husband, turning back to flip another burger: "Orange."

Wife: "Is it square?"

Husband, doing an annoying amount of clanging and banging for grilling two simple burgers: "Yes, just as God intended for fine cheese."

Wife, settling back into her chair: "That's not REAL cheese."

Husband, grabbing the package and showing it to her: "It says right here on the package: "Real cheese"."

Wife: "And my driver's license says I weigh 145 pounds. If it is orange, square and wrapped in individual slices then it's not REAL cheese."

Husband: "It's BETTER then real cheese. It's like SUPER cheese."

"Wife: "I don't want any on my burger."

Husband: "Good. Because I wouldn't give you any of this cheese if you begged me."

Wife, leaning back and closing her eyes: "Don't worry -- I won't."

Husband, returning to grill: "Cheese snob."

Long pause

Husband: "Do you want pickle?"

Wife, speaking low and lazy: "What kind of pickle?"

Husband: "A SUPER pickle."

Baby, baby, can't you feel my heart beat?

A family is gathered in a hospital emergency room around the bed of a 50-year old man who is suffering with chest pain. Medical equipment squeaks, beeps and throbs in the background. The man is in good spirits but occasionally grows quiet when the pain worsens.

The man’s family – two sons, one daughter-in-law and his wife – are trying to distract him during the long, nerve-wracking wait for test results.

The teenage son deciphers the many readings on the monitor tracking the man’s vital signs. “Look. When dad takes a deep breath his oxygen levels go up. Go on dad – take a deep breath. *pause* See! The line goes up.”

The oldest son (married): “And look at his blood pressure. That’s a good indication of his pain. It’s normal at this moment, but when his chest hurts his BP goes up.”

Daughter-in-law: “Yeah. And have you noticed that his pulse rate goes up every time your mom speaks?”

Mom: “What? It does not—”

She is interrupted by a chorus of amazed voices as the man’s pulse goes up.

Mom: “That’s not funny–”

Again, she is interrupted as his pulse rises.

Mom: “Now cut that out–”

His pulse jumps again.

Oldest son shakes his head: “If this becomes a matter of life or death we may have to ask her to leave.”

Mom: “That’s it. I’m not saying another wo–”

The others, including the man, burst into laughter as his pulse leaps.

Curtain closes.

In the backseat

It is a hot and humid summer day in Indiana. A middle-age woman is being taken out for Sunday dinner after church by her husband, their teenage son (17), married son (26) and lovely daughter-in-law.

The oldest son drives, so mom is squished into the tiny backseat between a surly 6'4" teenager and a sweating 250 lb husband. Mom sits quietly while son and husband fidget in the repressive heat.

The conversation turns to a popular TV show that the three young people watched the previous night. They are discussing the details with great enthusiasm while mom and dad listen silently.

Finally, the oldest son asks his mother: "Didn't you guys see the show?"

Mom: "No."

Oldest son: "You should've watched it. It was great!"

Teenage son: "They don't have a life."

Oldest son, scolding younger brother in the rearview mirror: "They were probably busy."

Teenage son: "They're never busy."

Oldest son: "Maybe they had something better to do."

Teenage son: "Like what? They're too old to have fun."

Dad looks at wife in the crowded backseat and asks, "Why DID we miss the show?"

Mom looks back at him: "We were having sex."

Pandemonium breaks out and chaos ensues.

Curtain closes.