One of my Dad’s favorite jokes jumped into my mind yesterday. I don’t remember where he first heard it, and Google isn’t being helpful. If anyone knows its author, let me know and I’ll give credit.
I once belonged to a band of traveling musicians. We toured the many petty kingdoms of our land, and lived upon the bounty of their rulers. I played the flute, and my companions accompanied me on the tuba and the timpani.
One day, we played for a king who was so impressed with our performance that he ordered, “Fill their instruments with gold coins!”
The tuba player became instantly wealthy.
The timpanist removed the drum head and took all he could carry.
And there I was with my little flute.
Later, we performed for another ruler who loved our music even more. “Fill their instruments with diamonds!” he decreed.
The tuba player was elated.
The timpanist was ecstatic.
And there I was with my little flute.
Finally, we visited a king who didn’t appreciate our talents. “That’s horrible!” he cried, “Take your instruments and shove them up your ***!”
The tuba player couldn’t do it.
The timpanist couldn’t either.
And there I was with my little flute.
Whenever Dad felt that he was getting the short end of the stick as it were, he’d say “And there I was with my little flute.”
I won’t go into the circumstances that brought this story to mind. Enough to say, “And there I was with my little flute.”
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