Favorite this joke Why do artists constantly feel cold?
Because they’re surrounded by drafts.
My young son ran to me, crying. “Daddy, I stubbed my toe,” he sobbed.
“Let me kiss it and make it better,” I said. “Which toe was it?”
“The one that has no roast beef.”
My three-year-old daughter stuck out her hand and said, “Look at the fly I killed, Mommy.”
Since she was eating a juicy pickle at the time, I thrust her contaminated hands under the faucet and washed them with antibacterial soap. After sitting her down to finish her pickle, I asked, with a touch of awe, “How did you kill that fly all by yourself?”
Between bites, she said, “I hit it with my pickle.”
When I stepped on the scale at my doctor’s office, I was surprised to see that I weighed 144 pounds.
“Why don’t you just take off that last four?” I joked to the nurse’s aide as she made a notation on my chart.
A few moments later, my doctor came in and flipped through the chart.
“I see you’ve lost weight,” he said. “You’re down to... 14 pounds???”
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