Hula Hoop Olympics

As I’m driving to Culver’s, since I was called into work and had to interrupt my dinner-making plans (which frankly consisted of defrosting a frozen dinner), I see a beautiful silver convertible driven by a man with grayish white hair and sunglasses, with his female companion of similar colored hair seated beside him.  In the back of the car are… hula hoops- different sized half circles in neon pink and lime green.   

I wondered who these people really were.  Were they clowns or jugglers, running away from the circus?  Were they on a long trip and used the hula hoops at rest stops to unwind?  Were they serious hula hoop competitors, driving cross country to the national hula hoop Olympics?  Were they returning faulty equipment to the nearest department store?  Were they going to a friend’s house for lawn darts and trying to cheat?

I get tickled by the oxymoronic, or things that just don’t seem to go together.  Have you ever seen doughnuts being served at a health fair? 

I love the For Better, For Worse comic where the dad spanks his son and then says, “That will teach you not to hit!”   

I still think white chocolate shouldn’t be counted as chocolate, but technically it has cocoa butter…

I read an article today about how exercise can combat fatigue.  What if you’re too tired?

Why do they call it a “fair” when the prices on food and rides are not fair at all?

If the early bird gets the worm, isn’t it better for the worm to sleep in?

Why are chilies hot?

Two rights don’t make a wrong, but four rights have you going in circles (even though blocks are square).

We have underwear and outer wear, but not over wear and inner wear.

If pancakes are made in a pan, where are johnny cakes made?

Well, there’s not enough time in the world to solve all these mysteries.  Time to hit the hay and start counting sheep.  No wonder my mom always asked if I was born in a barn!


Popular posts from this blog

Looking for the Good

How to Reach Your Full Potential for God by Charles Stanley

Procrastinators Anonymous