|The Funniest Newspaper Column
in the Country
National Society of Newspaper Columnists
2008 First Place Humor Column
from the Ozarks by Clet Litter
Hiked over to moms for Mother’s Day
Mother’s Day has come and gone. I trust you got to celerbrate with your momma
right there with you. For those who couldn’t cause she’s passed on, I hope you had
fond memories to recollect. Those that don’t have any pleasant memories … well,
you are on your own, but you already know that.
We hiked on over to Momma’s house to take a Mother’s Day present and to cook her
favorites for dinner. That included corn bread cooked in a cast iron pan coated in bacon
I brought a Peace Lily plant for the patio and a set of 1950s television programs, so
she could watch her comedy shows. We watched one that very afternoon, Father Knows
Best, with the youngins, Princes, Bud, and Kitten. They had real names, but nobody
knew them. Momma never understood why Bud spent so much time alone in his
bedroom upstairs. She favored Princess the most. She said, “Princess moseyed on to
become a pharmacist and date Andy Taylor.” Nobody knew what she meant by that
The only true names were Jim, the dad, which is still just a nickname, and Margaret,
the wife. There was a strict clothing code then. Jim constantly wore a suit and tie.
Margaret covered her dress in an apron. Momma said, “Pappy used to ponder out loud
where those three children come from, when both parents was always fully dressed.”
I was bringing my brewed tea in from the backyard when Morton Trubletoof showed
up at the front door. He don’t usually just drop by, unless the chicken that I’m cooking
is ready to eat. He’s the finest animal tracker around, but I don’t know how he senses
when a roasted bird is coming out of the oven at my place. It’s a gift really.
Morton sez, “Clet, what you got there?”
I sez, “It’s stump tea that I made. My Pappy would park a mason jar atop a tree stump
in the morning. He filled it with spring water and four tea bags and left it outside.
After lunch, he’d stir some sugar or sorghum in it, and store it in the refrigerator.
He drank it on the porch after supper every night.”
Note to myself: “Clet, that tea thing is not funny, it ain’t even pithy. So, write
something else or take it out, you Bozo.”
Widow Fenster has rewritten a poem:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king's horses
And all the king's men
Couldn't get Humpty to remove his wig again.
You can contact Clet Litter at firstname.lastname@example.org.
to you each week.