Chuckle Of The Day – The Tomato Garden And Shoebox

Old Man And His Tomato Garden

An old Italian lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to dig his tomato garden, but it was very hard work as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament:

Dear Vincent,

I am feeling pretty badly because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the garden area for me.

Love, Papa

A few days later he received a letter from his son:

Dear Pop,

Don’t dig up the garden. That’s where the bodies are buried.

At 4 a.m. the next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left.

That same day the old man received another letter from his son:

Dear Pop,

Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do for you under the circumstances.

Love, Vincent

The Shoe Box

A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years.

They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.

For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife’s bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box.

When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000. He asked her about the contents.

“When we were to be married,” she said, “my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll.”

The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. He thought she had only been angry with him twice in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness. “Honey,’ he said, “that explains the dolls, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?”

“Oh,” she said, “I made that by selling the dolls.”