Funny: Some jokes

My mother taught me to read when I was 3 years old (her first mistake). One day I was in the bathroom and noticed one of the cabinet doors was ajar.

I read the box in the cabinet. I then asked my mother why she was keeping napkins in the bathroom. Didn't they belong in the kitchen? Not wanting to burden me with unnecessary facts she told me that those were for special occasions.

Now fast forward a few months, and my folks are leaving to pick up the pastor and his wife for dinner. Mom had assignments for all of us while they were gone. Mine was to set the table. You guessed it! When they returned, the pastor came in first and immediately burst into laughter. Next came his wife who gasped, then began giggling. Next came my father, who roared with laughter. Then came mom, who almost died of embarrassment when she saw each place setting on the table with a "special occasion" napkin at each plate, with the fork carefully arranged on top. I had even tucked the little tails in so they didn't hang off the edge.

My mother asked me why I used these and, of course, my response sent the other adults into further fits of laughter. "But Mom, you SAID they were for special occasions!"

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When Maria found out she was pregnant, she lit up the phone lines telling everyone the good news. One day she took her four-year-old son, Dave out shopping. A woman asked the boy if he was excited about the baby.

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, "and I know what we're going to name it too! If it's a girl, we're calling her Anna. And if it's another boy, we're going to call it quits."

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A researcher arrives in Borneo to gather data for his thesis. Accompanied by his trusty guide, he seeks out a very remote locale for researching the mating behavior of the giant rat of Sumatra.

Around dusk of the first day, he's sitting by the campfire with his guide when in the distance, he hears tribal drums. They get louder. The guide announces, "I don't like the sound of those drums."

The dusk turns evening. The drums get louder. The guide says, "I really don't like the sound of those drums."

Evening turns to dead of night. The drums get louder and louder, until it is obvious that the drummers must be quite close. The guide says again, "I really don't like the sound of those drums."

Suddenly the drums stop, and a voice from the darkness cries out, "Hey man, give us a break!  He's not our regular drummer!"

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When we put our house up for sale, I stressed emphatically that my sons make their beds each morning.
I left for work before they left for school and I wanted to be sure the house looked presentable when the agent showed it to prospective buyers.
I was surprised and impressed that my 15-year-old son's bed was perfectly made each day. Until, that is, one night when I went into his room, I discovered his secret.
He was fast asleep on the floor in his sleeping bag.