The teacher gave her fifth-grade class an assignment: Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The next day the kids came back and one by one began to tell their stories. Ashley said, “My father’s a farmer and we have a lot of egg-laying hens. One time we were taking our eggs to market in a basket on the front seat of the car when we hit a big bump in the road and all the eggs went flying and broke and made a mess.”
“What’s the moral of the story?” asked the teacher.
“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket!”
“Very good,” said the teacher.
Next little Sarah raised her hand and said, “Our family are farmers too. But we raise chickens for the meat market. We had a dozen eggs one time, but when they hatched we only got ten live chicks, and the moral to this story is, ‘don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.'”
“That was a fine story Sarah. “Joey, do you have a story to share?”
“Yes, ma’am, my daddy told me a story about my Aunt Carol. Aunt Carol was a pilot in Desert Storm and her plane got hit. She had to bail out over enemy territory and all she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol and a survival knife. She drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn’t fall into enemy hands, and then her parachute landed right in the middle of twenty enemy troops. She shot fifteen of them with the gun until she ran out of bullets, killed four more with the knife, ’til the blade broke and then she killed the last one with her bare hands.”
“Good heavens,” said the horrified teacher, “What kind of moral did your daddy teach you from that horrible story?”
“Stay the fuck away from Aunt Carol when she’s been drinking.”