The farmer's son was returning from the market with the crate of chickens his father had entrusted to him, when all of a sudden the box fell and broke open.
Chickens scurried off in different directions, but the determined boy walked all over the neighborhood scooping up the wayward birds and returning them to the repaired crate. Hoping he had found them all, the boy reluctantly returned home, expecting the worst.
"Pa, the chickens got loose," the boy confessed sadly, "but I managed to find all twelve of them."
"Well, you did real good, son," the farmer beamed, "because you only left with seven."
Knock-knock!
Who’s there?
Abraham Lincoln.
Abraham Lincoln who?
Wait! You don’t know who Abraham Lincoln is?
After years of using the same perfumes, I decided to try something different and settled on a light, citrusy fragrance.
The next day I was surprised when it was my little boy, not my husband, who first noticed the change.
As he put his arms around me, he declared, "Wow Mom, you smell just like Froot Loops!"
My father’s secretary was visibly distraught one morning when she arrived at the office and explained that her children’s parrot had escaped from his cage and flown out an open window. Of all the dangers the tame bird would face outdoors alone, she seemed most concerned about what would happen if the bird started talking.
Confused, my father asked what the parrot could say. “Well,” she explained, “he mostly says, ‘Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.’”