Jokes Book Collection Part Ix Part 13

After the father departs, the woman takes her boyfriend out of the closet, and too upset to continue she sends him on his way.

The next morning at the breakfast table the little boy pulls out a roll of money and begins counting it. The mother asks "Where did that come from?, to which her son replied "Can't say."

The mother asks again and upon his refusal to tell she tells her son to get in the car.

The mother takes the boy to church and tells him to get into the confessional and tell the priest where he got the money. When the priest slid the door over the boy said, "Boy it's dark in here", to which the priest replied, "Don't start that s.h.i.+t again!"

Cab Driver.

A mother and daughter were riding in a cab though New York City when the daughter noticed some scantily clad women loitering on a street corner. "Mommy," the little girl asked, "what are all those ladies doing?"

"They're waiting for their husbands to come home from work." the mother answered.

"C'mon lady, they're hookers!" retorted the cab driver.

After a stunned silence, the daughter asked, "Mommy, do hookers have children?"

"Of course," the mother replied, "where do you think cabbies come from?"

Cavity.

Mom walked into the bathroom one day and found young Futh furiously scrubbing his p.e.n.i.s with a toothbrush and toothpaste.

"What do you think you're doing, young man?!" she exclaimed.

"Don't try to stop me!" Futh warned. "I'm gonna do this three times a day, because there's no way I'm gonna get a cavity that looks and smells as bad as my sister's.

Chicken Salad.

Two toddlers, a boy and a girl, lived across the street from each other. Both dearly loved chicken salad. Each day, they took turns having lunch at his or her house and they always ate chicken salad. This continued until they were ready to start school.

The day before school started, their mothers found them crying. When asked why they were crying, they responded that they could no longer eat their chicken salad together. The mothers comforted them with the promise that they would pack their lunches and they could still eat chicken salad together every day.

The children did so every day. When they were about 11 years old, the girl unpacked her lunch one day and the boy, startled, said, "That's not chicken salad. You said you were going to eat chicken salad every day for the rest of your life. What IS that stuff?"

To which the girl replied, "This is peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly. I still love chicken salad, but I can't eat it anymore."

Boy: "Why not?

Girl: "Because I'm growing feathers."

Boy: "You are not!"

Girl: "Yes I am. I'm growing feathers and can't eat chicken salad any more!!"

Boy: "I don't believe you, let me see."

Girl: "I can't show you my feathers."

Boy: "I don't believe you."

So the girl agrees to show him her feathers and they proceed around the building to a solitary spot and she drops her panties and shows him her feathers.

Boy: "My, my, my!! You ARE growing feathers. Well, I'm not and I'm going to eat chicken salad for the rest of my natural life."

Well, every day, the girl ate peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly and the boy ate his chicken salad.

When they were 13, the boy unpacked his lunch. The girl, sniffing, exclaimed: "That's not chicken salad! You said you were going to eat chicken salad for the rest of your natural life. What IS that stuff?"

To which the boy responded: "Tuna salad. I can't eat chicken salad anymore. I'm growing feathers, too!!

Girl: "Let me see."

Boy: "Oh, no!! I couldn't possibly show you my feathers."

Girl: "I showed you mine."

Boy: "Well, I guess fair is fair. You did show me yours."

They went around the building and he dropped his pants.

The girl's mouth dropped open and she exclaimed: "You're not only growing feathers, you're growing the neck and the gizzards, too!"

Children at the Cemetery.

A group of children lived near a cemetry that was situated round a suburban church.

They would often play near a hedge adjacent to the graves and while there hear the ministers conducting services.

One day they played funerals and dug a grave in which they buried a pretend casket.

One of them intoned the prayers and ended with what he a.s.sumed the minister was saying; In the name of the Father, and of the Son...And in the hole he goes!

Children of Israel.

At the Henry Street Hebrew School, Goldblatt, the new teacher, finished the day's lesson. It was now time for the usual question period.

"Mr. Goldblatt," announced little Joey, "there's somethin' I can't figger out."

"What's that Joey?" asked Goldblatt.

"Well accordin' to the Bible, the Children of Israel crossed the Red Sea,right?"

"Right."

"An' the Children of Israel beat up the Philistines, right?"

"Er--right."

"An' the Children of Israel built the Temple, right?"

"Again you're right."

"An' the Children of Israel fought the 'gyptians, an' the Cildren of Israel fought the Romans, an' the Children of Israel wuz always doin' somethin' important, right?"

"All that is right, too," agreed Goldblatt. "So what's your question?"

"What I wanna know is this," demanded Joey. "What wuz all the grown-ups doin"?

Cider for Pain.

A little girl came running into the house bawling her eyes out and cradling her hand: "Mummy, quick! Get me a gla.s.s of cider!" she wailed.

"Why do you want a gla.s.s of cider?" asked her mom. "I cut my hand on a thorn, and I want the pain to go away!"

Confused, but weary of the child's whining, the mother obliged and poured her a gla.s.s of cider. The little girl immediately dunked her hand in it.

"Ouch! It still hurts! This cider doesn't work!" she whined.

"What are you talking about?" asked her increasingly perplexed parent, "What ever made you think that cider would ease your pain?"

"Well, I overheard my big sister say that whenever she gets a p.r.i.c.k in her hand, she can't wait to get it in cider"