To the Newton Independent:
Golly. I sure am sorry that my last letter got some people so riled up. I, myself, would never tell someone they can't wave the flag. However, it might be true that I am not what some people think is a good Christian - because I lie.
I think I have told this story before about how my lovely wife cried and cried because I told her the truth one day that I wasn't feeling well. So, she made me go see a doctor and then all hell broke loose. Those doctors grabbed me, put me in an ambulance, took me to Des Moines and cut me open and did all kinds of things to my heart and now I am a bionic man walking around with a battery implanted in my chest.
Now, everyday my wife will ask me, "how are you feeling today, sweetheart?"
And I lie. I say, "Oh, honey, I'm fine, I feel good."
Now, she knows that I am telling a lie because she says, "I don't think you are telling everything."
Of course not. If I did she would make go see the doctors. I'm an old man. My joints hurt, my back hurts, my prostate hurts, my sinus hurts, my feet hurt. I mean there is enough there for those doctors to work overtime.
I told her, "darling, I tell you truthfully everything you need to know." And for some reason that made her really mad.
So, to smooth things over, I baked her some homemade bread. That old farm girl loves to have a toasted slice of home-baked bread every morning with her coffee. I tell you, I can feel the love coming at me every time she cuts a slice. Then I decided to make her love me even more. So after the bread got baked, I washed up the pans and whip up some angel food cake batter. After the cake pans were in the oven I decided to wash things, and that's when I got in trouble.
Some idiot made the mixer speed switch and ejector switch all in one piece so when I pulled back the switch to where it said eject nothing happened. That made me mad so I reached in with my fingers to pull those damn beater blades out by force and I was jerking on them when that evil machine turned on as I had not unplugged it. There were my fingers twisted up in those beaters and I could not get them out even after it was unplugged. I finally moved the switch back to eject and pushed down hard and the beaters came out and my fingers got loose. It didn't break any bones but I had cuts on my fingers.
Now, my wife saw me putting medicine on my bleeding fingers and asked me what happened. Like any self-respecting man, I lied. I said, "Oh, that damned cat thought my hand was a scratching post.
Olen W. Lambert
PS. Today, the 21st, is my wife's birthday. I think she deserves kudos for putting up with me.