An Irish Mother's Letter

  Dear son,

         Just  a few lines to let you know I'm still alive. I am
    writing this letter slowly because I know you you can't read
    fast.  You won't know the house when you get home - we  have
    moved.  About your father - he has a lovely new job. He  has
    500  men  under him -   he cuts the grass at the  graveyard.
    There  is a washing machine at the new house, but it has not
    been  working well. Last week I put in 14 shirts, pulled the
    chain  to  start the  washing machine, and haven't seen  the
    shirts  since. Your sister Mary had a baby this morning, but
    I  haven't  found out if it is  a boy or a girl, so I  don't
    know  if  you are an  uncle or an aunt. Your  uncle  Patrick
    drowned  in a vat of whiskey. Some of his workmates tried to
    save  him but he fought them off bravely. They cremated  him
    and  it took three weeks to put out the fire. I went to  the
    doctors on Thursday and your father went with me. The doctor
    put  a small glass tube in my mouth and told me not to  talk
    for  ten  minutes. Your father  offered to buy it from  him.
    Your  father ate five pounds of potatoes all to himself.  He
    managed it because the potatoes were only small ones.

                                              Your loving mother

    P.S.  I was going to send you ten pounds but I have  already
    sealed the envelope.

This was from Steve's humour list (oracle@synapse.net).  

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This message was sent on 10 Apr 1996