When our client’s dog lapped up anti-freeze, the veterinarian I work for ordered a unique treatment... an IV drip mixing fluids with vodka. “Go buy the cheapest bottle you can find,” he told me.

At the liquor store, I was uneasy buying cheap booze so early in the day, and I felt compelled to explain things to the clerk.

“Believe it or not,” I said, “this is for a sick dog.”

As I was leaving, the next customer plunked down two bottles of muscatel and announced, “These are for my cats.”

Hanging up with my 90-year-old mother, I sighed, then said to 
my 96-year-old uncle, “She’s so 
stubborn.”

He shook his head sympathetically and warned, “You’re going to have trouble with her when she gets old.”

My husband and I both work, so our family eats out a lot.

Recently, when we were having a rare home-cooked meal, I handed a glass to my three-year-old and told her to drink her milk.

She looked at me bewildered and replied, "But I didn’t order milk."

A couple of hours into a visit with my mother she noticed I hadn’t lit up a cigarette once. “Are you trying to kick the habit?”

“No,” I replied. “I’ve got a cold and I don’t smoke when I’m not feeling well.”

“You know,” she observed, “you’d probably live longer if you were sick more often.”