Foxfire
June 10th, 2005, 11:35
The teacher gave her fifth grade class an
assignment. It was to 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 pickup when we hit a big bump in the
road and all the
eggs went flying and broke and made a mess."
"And 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 had ten
live chicks, and the
moral to the story is, don't count your chickens
until they've
hatched."
That was a fine story, Sarah." "Michael, do you
have a story to tell?"
"Yes, ma'am, my daddy told me this story about my
Aunt Vickie. Aunt
Vickie 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, 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 100 enemy
troops. She killed
seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran
out of bullets.
Then she killed twenty more with the machete. And
then she killed the
last ten with her bare hands."
"Good heavens," said the horrified teacher, "what
kind of moral did
your daddy tell you from that horrible story?"
"Stay the hell away from Aunt Vickie when she's
drinking
assignment. It was to 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 pickup when we hit a big bump in the
road and all the
eggs went flying and broke and made a mess."
"And 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 had ten
live chicks, and the
moral to the story is, don't count your chickens
until they've
hatched."
That was a fine story, Sarah." "Michael, do you
have a story to tell?"
"Yes, ma'am, my daddy told me this story about my
Aunt Vickie. Aunt
Vickie 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, 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 100 enemy
troops. She killed
seventy of them with the machine gun until she ran
out of bullets.
Then she killed twenty more with the machete. And
then she killed the
last ten with her bare hands."
"Good heavens," said the horrified teacher, "what
kind of moral did
your daddy tell you from that horrible story?"
"Stay the hell away from Aunt Vickie when she's
drinking