The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment: get your parents to
tell you 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.
Kathy said, "My father's a farmer and we have a lot of egg-laying hens. One
time we were taking our eggs to the market in a basket on the front seat of
the pickup when we hit a bump in the road 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. "Now, Lucy?"
"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
until they're hatched."
"That was a fine story Lucy. Johnny do you have a story to share?"
"Yes, ma'am. My daddy told me this story about my uncle Bob. Uncle
Bob was a pilot in Vietnam and his plane got hit. He had to bail out over
enemy territory and all he had was a bottle of whiskey, a machine gun and a
machete. He drank the whiskey on the way down so it wouldn't break and then
he
landed right in the middle of 100 enemy troops. He killed seventy of them
with
the machine gun until he ran out of bullets, then he killed twenty more with
the machete till the blade broke; and then he killed the last ten with his
bare hands!
"Good heavens," said the horrified teacher, "what kind of a moral
did your daddy say came from that horrible story?"
"Don't fuck with Uncle Bob when he's been drinking."
