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