Gray Hair

A curious child asked his mother: “Mommy, why are some of your hairs turning gray?”

The mother tried to use this occasion to teach her child about good behavior and obedience and said, “It is because of you, dear. Every time you misbehave, throw a tantrum or do something mommy asked you not to do, one of my hairs will turn gray!”

The boy thought for a moment and replied innocently, “Ahh, so now I know why Grandma has only gray hairs on her head.”

Wrong Approach

A lovely afternoon finds one fellow and his wife golfing. They have had a wonderful time and the man has had a near perfect game.

The final hole, by far the most difficult, wraps around an old barn. With a terrible slice the man puts the barn between his ball and the green. Knowing that the strokes that it will take to get around the barn will destroy his score, he begins to rant and rave.

His wife hating to see him ruin such a great afternoon makes a suggestion. “What if I were to hold open the barn doors? That way you could send it right through the barn onto the green.”

He thinks this over and decides that it will work. With his wife holding open the barn door he lines up with the hole and gives the ball a terrific “whack”! The ball shoots through the air and right into the head of his wife, killing her instantly.

Months go by, the man mourning all the while. His friends, hating to see him in such a state, convince him to go golfing with them. They end up at the same course and on the final hole, oddly enough, another terrible slice puts the old barn between his ball and the green.

Again he begins to rant and rave at what this dilemma will do to his score. He friend, wanting to please him, makes a suggestion.

“What if I were to hold open the barn doors? That way you could send it right through the barn onto the green.”

“No,” the man replies, “last time I did that I got two over par.”

Reelection Campaign

Recently I heard the former mayor of Reading, Pennsylvania, recount some funny stories about his time in office. One happened while he was running for reelection; he was in a bar and paid for a woman’s drink. She thanked him but wondered why a stranger had bought her a beer.

“I’m running for mayor,” he told her, “and I want your vote.”

“You got it,” she said, grabbing her glass. “Anyone’s better than the imbecile who’s in there now.”