A teacher gave her 5th grade class an assignment: They were to have their
parents tell them a story with a moral. The next day the kids came to
class, and one by one, told their stories:
Little Kathy raised her hand first and said, “We live on a farm and have
hens that lay eggs for market. Once we were taking a basket of eggs to
market on the front seat of the pickup truck and we hit a big bump in the
road. The eggs went flying and broke all over everything.”
“And what is the moral to that story?”
“Don't put all your eggs in one basket.”
“Very good,” said the teacher.
Then little Tammy raised her hand and said, “We live on a farm, too. But we
raise chickens for the meat market. We had a dozen eggs once, but when they
hatched, we got only ten live chicks. And the moral to that story is, don't
count your chickens before they are hatched.”
“That was a fine example, Tammy. Johnny, I believe you had your hand up next.”
“Yes Ma'am. My daddy told me that my Aunt Karen was a flight engineer in
Desert Storm and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy
territory and all she had was a bottle of whiskey, a machine gun, and a
machete. She drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn't break, and
then she landed right in the middle of a hundred enemy soldiers. She killed
seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran out of bullets, then she
killed twenty more with the machete before the blade broke off. Then she
killed the last ten with her bare hands.”
“Good Heavens!” said the horrified teacher. “What did your daddy tell you
was the moral to that terrible story?”
“Stay the hell away from Aunt Karen when she's been drinking.”
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