PeteV
03-18-2003, 11:22 AM
This was circulating as an office email....an interesting perspective... I have to admit I never considered this as an option.
~~~ My Mother... The Inspector ~~~
Have you noticed anything fishy about the inspection teams who
have arrived in Iraq? They're all men!
How in the name of the United Nations does anyone expect men tofind Saddam's stash? We all know that men have a blind spot when it comes to finding things. For crying' out loud! Men can't findthe dirty clothes hamper. Men can't find the jar of jelly until it falls out of the cupboard and splatters on the floor... and these are the people we have sent into Iraq to search for hiddenweapons of mass destruction?
I keep wondering why groups of mothers weren't sent in. Mothercan sniff out secrets quicker than a drug dog can find a gram ofdope.
Mothers can find gin bottles that dads have stashed in the attic beneath the rafters. They can sniff out a diary two rooms and
one floor away. They can tell when the lid of a cookie jar has been disturbed and notice when a quarter inch slice has been shavedoff a chocolate cake. A mother can smell alcohol on your breath before you get your key in the front door and can smell cigarette smoke from a block away. By examining laundry, a mother knows moreabout their kids than Sherlock Holmes. And if a mother wants an answerto question, she can read an offender's eyes quicker than a homicide detective.
So. considering the value a mother could bring to an inspection team, why are we sending a bunch of men who will rely on
electronic equipment to scout out hidden threats?
My mother would walk in with a wooden soup spoon in one hand,grab Saddam by the ear, give it a good twist and snap, "Young man, doyou have any weapons of mass destruction?" And if he tried to lie to her, she'd march him down the street to some secret bunker andshove his nose into a nuclear bomb and say, "Uh, huh, and what do youcall this, mister?" Whap! Thump! Whap! Whap! Whap! And she'd laysome stripes across his bottom with that soup spoon, then march him
home in front of the whole of Baghdad.
He'd not only come clean and apologize for lying about it, he'dcut every lawn in Baghdad for free for the whole summer.
Inspectors! You want the job done? Call my mother.
~~~ My Mother... The Inspector ~~~
Have you noticed anything fishy about the inspection teams who
have arrived in Iraq? They're all men!
How in the name of the United Nations does anyone expect men tofind Saddam's stash? We all know that men have a blind spot when it comes to finding things. For crying' out loud! Men can't findthe dirty clothes hamper. Men can't find the jar of jelly until it falls out of the cupboard and splatters on the floor... and these are the people we have sent into Iraq to search for hiddenweapons of mass destruction?
I keep wondering why groups of mothers weren't sent in. Mothercan sniff out secrets quicker than a drug dog can find a gram ofdope.
Mothers can find gin bottles that dads have stashed in the attic beneath the rafters. They can sniff out a diary two rooms and
one floor away. They can tell when the lid of a cookie jar has been disturbed and notice when a quarter inch slice has been shavedoff a chocolate cake. A mother can smell alcohol on your breath before you get your key in the front door and can smell cigarette smoke from a block away. By examining laundry, a mother knows moreabout their kids than Sherlock Holmes. And if a mother wants an answerto question, she can read an offender's eyes quicker than a homicide detective.
So. considering the value a mother could bring to an inspection team, why are we sending a bunch of men who will rely on
electronic equipment to scout out hidden threats?
My mother would walk in with a wooden soup spoon in one hand,grab Saddam by the ear, give it a good twist and snap, "Young man, doyou have any weapons of mass destruction?" And if he tried to lie to her, she'd march him down the street to some secret bunker andshove his nose into a nuclear bomb and say, "Uh, huh, and what do youcall this, mister?" Whap! Thump! Whap! Whap! Whap! And she'd laysome stripes across his bottom with that soup spoon, then march him
home in front of the whole of Baghdad.
He'd not only come clean and apologize for lying about it, he'dcut every lawn in Baghdad for free for the whole summer.
Inspectors! You want the job done? Call my mother.