In my classroom, we end our day with about ten minutes of a share, telling, or joke. There is a sign-up list the students use to maintain some order in the process. Many of the students lately have gotten into telling jokes. Some are pretty darn good and I try to remember them so I can tell Cody and Carter when I get home.
I say try because I usually don’t end up remembering them.
This week a student stumped the entire class with this riddle: what word stays the same when you take away the first, last, and middle letter. I will get to the answer in a minute.
After dinner, I remembered the riddle and told it to Husband and the boys. They did not know and wanted me to tell them. I told them I would let them think it over for about 20 minutes. This caused much groaning and complaining.
Perhaps in retaliation, Carter busted out with one of his many joke books.
carter: What is the hardest part of skydiving?
husband: Jumping out of the plane?
carter: In a disgusted voice, No poppa!
me: The ground!
carter: Yes momma!
I am good with kid jokes. I don’t know if I should be proud of this or not.
Carter tells a few more jokes (what’s black and white and black and white and orange? Two skunks fighting over a basket ball.)
Not to be outdone, I chime in with a fart joke that was told in my classroom (one I gently suggested to the boy may not have been the most appropriate of topic choices (but secretly I was fine with)).
me: What is the best place to fart?
Cody, as if on cue, lets one rip and Carter laughs and answers “here?”
me: No! A gas station!
Carter in a voice filled with what sounds like exasperation and shame that I am related to him says, “Oh, momma!”
Oh, and the answer to the riddle…
EMPTY becomes EMPTY M T