A policeman is on scene at a terrible accident - body parts everywhere. He is making his notes of where the pieces are and comes across a head. He writes in his notebook: "Head on bullevard."

He then scratches out his spelling error. "Head on bouelevard." Nope, doesn't look right - scratch scratch.

"Head on boolevard..." dang it! Scratch, scratch.

He looks around and sees that no one is looking at him as he kicks the head. Back to his notepad, he writes, "Head on curb."

A man pulls up to the curb and asks the policeman, "Can I park here?"

"No, sorry." says the cop.

"What about all these other cars?"

"Well, they didn't ask."

On his birthday, my husband was stuck driving our six rambunctious children around. As usual, they were yelling, punching, and annoying one another. Joel finally had had enough.

“Kids,” he said, “if you would behave and be kind to each other, that would be a very nice birthday present for me.”

Our six-year-old shot back, “Too late dad, I already got you another present.”

“My great-grandma gave me this money,” said my three-year-old, happily clutching a $20 bill he’d gotten as a present.

“That’s right,” I said. “How did you know that?”

Pointing to Andrew Jackson’s face in the middle, he said, “Because her picture is on it.”