Art Linkletter hosted “House Party,” a program broadcast on CBS radio and television for 25 years, beginning in 1945. The show was very popular before television was common and might be considered as the precursor of today’s podcasts.

His television show, “People are Funny,” also aired on NBC radio and television for 19 years. I enjoyed watching “Kids Say the Darndest Things.” I laughed at what those my age said. Some of them had potential to cause a problem. I was sure I’d never say something that would get me in trouble. I knew better than that.

My mother had a unique friend back in those days. You might think of Wanda as one of those friends we might each have — the one that drives you crazy at times. Wanda often came to our house unannounced to share her gossip with Mom. Our one and only ash tray was situated on the dining room table in anticipation of Wanda’s need to light up before diving into the nitty-gritty of life’s ongoing miseries.

I always sat silently, counting how many drags she took from each smoldering cigarette (usually two) before it was snuffed out, and another fired up. The house reeked when she left, leading to the ritual of positioning the Vornado fan close to an open dining room window.

During one of Wanda’s visits, she explained amidst an assortment of personal sufferings that her mother needed to do some banking in Newton, Kansas, but she didn’t have time to make the 40-mile round trip. Mom offered to help Wanda out by driving her mother where she needed to go. Although intended as a one-time resolution of Wanda’s predicament, this became a monthly request, direct from Wanda’s mother herself.

After a half dozen such excursions, Mom felt she’d become an unappreciated chauffeur so Wanda could get her nails done. One summer morning, Mother answered the phone then told me, “You stay right here at home. I have to take the Queen of Sheba to Newton.”

I was watching “People are Funny” when the phone rang. “Hello,” I said. I recognized Wanda’s voice. When she asked to speak to Mother, I told her, “I’m sorry, she’s not here. She had to take the Queen of Sheba to Newton.” There was a click on the other end of the line.

Not long after this incident, Dad’s best friend, Dutch, stopped by around Christmas time with a box of Russel Stover’s chocolates. I ogled the unopened box as it sat on the dining room table while I soaked in the man-talk. Finally, Dutch stood up to leave.

“Hold on there,” Dad said. “How ’bout a chocolate?” Dad also stood, cracked open the box and extended it toward Dutch as I quickly positioned myself nearby for a sample. Dutch extracted a piece of chocolate using a finger and thumb as tongs then rolled it back and forth, looking it over. He returned it to the box, then selected another to inspect, returning it was well. When he removed the third piece, I probably thought I could be next for a Linkletter interview when I uttered, “Well, why don’t you just finger them all?” Dad’s glare should have been a warning of what followed. He raised his knee and stomped on my foot.

Memories of elementary education come to mind for all of us now and then. For a long time, I thought this only included what was learned at school. There were predicaments there as well which brought consequences, some deserved and others, not.

Reflection on events involving Wanda and Dutch, however, remind me that the darndest things I had to say at home during youth weren’t as funny as I thought they were. It’s also clear as an adult that simply keeping one’s mouth shut at critical times can be a valuable life lesson exercised at home.