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    May Be A Chicken But Is A Total Road Hog

    | Felton, DE, USA | Parents & Guardians

    (I’ve recently gotten a temp job at a state agency that’s across the street from where my dad works; to save me money he suggests carpooling. Since we live in the middle of the country it isn’t that unusual to see farm animals, but on this morning we round a corner only to have to stop since there’s a chicken in the middle of the road. Unable to help but laugh, I look over to my dad.)

    Me: “Hey, Dad?”

    Dad: “What?”

    Me: *laughing while gesturing to the chicken* “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

    Dad: “To f****** make us late to work.”

    No Longer Driving In The Fast Lane

    | Los Angeles, CA, USA | Siblings

    (We are driving home from a restaurant one night when my parents, who love to play pranks, did the following to my sister, who is three years older than me:)

    Dad: “See this button, [Sister]? Don’t ever press this button.” *gestures to hazard light button* “Because it’s the turbo button!”

    (He then proceeds to pretend to push the button and step on the gas pedal causing the car to accelerate fast. Fast forward 10 years. My sister is now 13. My mom and sister are taking the car to the carwash and a sign says to turn the hazard lights on if you want a certain clean. Mom reaches for the button.)

    Sister: “WAIT, Mom, no! Don’t press that button! It’s the turbo button!”

    My Imaginary Eye

    | San Diego, CA, USA | Children, Grandchildren, Grandparents

    (Every week my family has a nice dinner out with my parents. We are driving home with everyone in the car. We are teaching my four- and five-year-old daughters to play ‘I spy.’ It is night and dark so the game is a little more challenging than usual.)

    Five-Year-Old: “I spy with my eye something that starts with ‘A’”

    (After a few moments.)

    Me: “We give up. What do you see that starts with ‘A’?”

    Five-Year-Old: *looks around a moment* “Well, you can use your imagination!”

    (Cue laughter in the car.)

    Grandpa: “What about ‘upholstery’…?”

    Food For Thoughtless, Part 3

    | FL, USA | Children, Sons & Daughters

    Brother: “Dad, what’s chicken made out of?”

    Dad: *surprised* “Chicken.”

    Brother: “No, but what animal?”


    From NotAlwaysRight:
    Food For Thoughtless, Part 2
    Food For Thoughtless

    Must Be Something In Their Milk

    | Jerusalem, Israel | Children, Sons & Daughters, Top

    (I am riding in the car with my three-year-old daughter and two-year-old son when they begin bouncing a nonsense phrase back and forth to each other.)

    Daughter: “Everybody was poats!”

    Son: “Everybody was poats!”

    Daughter: “Everybody was poats!”

    Son: “Everybody was poats!”

    Daughter: “Everybody was poats!”

    Son: “Everybody was poats!”

    (This goes on rhythmically for about fifteen minutes, during which I’m apparently being lulled into a false sense of security, because:)

    Daughter: “Everybody was poats!”

    Son: “Everybody was poats!”

    Daughter: *shouting at the top of her lungs* “DEMON LLAMA!”

    (I laughed so hard from shock that I almost crashed the car.)

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