My very, very funny face.

I see humor. In virtually everything. Even when I trip. And fall. And hurt myself. Really. I’m thankful. Because the end result could be worse.  A fractured skull. And death. Instead, I live. To savor another day. To count my many, many blessings. And to poke fun. At me. For a blemish. On what I perceive as my handsome face. No. No. Let’s be honest. My very, very funny face. --Jim Broede