For the second time in a row, I was forced to impose on the woman with whom I carpooled to our children’s soccer practice.
I phoned and explained that my husband had the car again, so I wouldn’t be able to take my turn.
A few minutes before she was due to pick up my son, my husband showed up.
Since it was too late for me to call and say I could drive after all, I asked my husband to hide the car in the garage and to stay inside. I also explained to my son that he shouldn’t mention anything about his father’s whereabouts.
Unfortunately, my husband forgot and was in front of our house chatting with a friend when my carpool partner arrived.
When my son returned from practice, I asked him if she had noticed.
“Yes,” he replied, “she asked me which of the two men in front of the house was my father. But don’t worry. I told her I didn’t know.”
Teacher: How old is your father?
Johnny: As old as I am.
Teacher: How is it possible?
Little Johnny: He became father only after I was born.
Two fathers chat outside school in the morning.
“Bill, have you solved your son’s math problems?”
“Yes, man, I did. Why?”
“Can you quickly give them to me, so I can copy them…?”
Two little boys, one blond, one with brown hair, were arguing over whose father could beat the other’ up.
The brown-haired kid said, “My father is way better than yours.”
The blond came back, “Maybe, but my mother is better than yours.”
“That’s what my father says.”
My daughter hates school.
One weekend, she cried and fretted and tried every excuse not to go back on Monday.
Sunday morning on the way home from brunch, the crying and whining built to a crescendo.
At the end of my rope, I finally stopped the car and explained, “Honey, it’s a law. If you don’t go to school, they’ll put daddy in jail.”
She looked at me, thought for a moment, then asked, “How long would you have to stay?”
