Two fathers chat outside school in the morning.
“Bill, have you solved your son’s math problems?”
“Yes, man, I did. Why?”
“Can you quickly give them to me, so I can copy them…?”
Two little boys, one blond, one with brown hair, were arguing over whose father could beat the other’ up.
The brown-haired kid said, “My father is way better than yours.”
The blond came back, “Maybe, but my mother is better than yours.”
“That’s what my father says.”
My daughter hates school.
One weekend, she cried and fretted and tried every excuse not to go back on Monday.
Sunday morning on the way home from brunch, the crying and whining built to a crescendo.
At the end of my rope, I finally stopped the car and explained, “Honey, it’s a law. If you don’t go to school, they’ll put daddy in jail.”
She looked at me, thought for a moment, then asked, “How long would you have to stay?”
A somewhat advanced society has figured out how to package basic knowledge in pill form.
A student, needing some learning, goes to the pharmacy and asks what kind of knowledge pills are available.
The pharmacist says: “Here’s a pill for English literature.”
The student takes the pill and swallows it and has new knowledge about English literature.
“What else do you have?” asks the student.
“Well I have pills for art history, biology, and world history,” replies the pharmacist.
The student asks for these, and swallows them and has new knowledge about those subjects.
Then the student asks: “Do you have a pill for math?”
The pharmacist says, “Wait just a moment,” goes back to the storeroom, brings back a whopper of a pill, and plonks it on the counter.
“I have to take that huge pill for math?” inquires the student.
The pharmacist replies, “Well you know math always was a little hard to swallow.”
