Out of the Mouth of Babes
A five-year old precocious daughter
asked her daddy where rabbits lived.
To impress her, he straightway said:
“In the ground in borrows, love.”
The little girl looked puzzled.
“Are you sure,” she said, “or is this just
another adult fabrication like
Santa Clause or the birth stork?”
Dumbfounded by her response
and eager to recover from his
embarrassment, he said? “Not at all,
love, this time it’s the truth.”
To which she retorded: “Well, dad, if my
observation is correct, and at my age
I’m free of cataracts, I’d say they must
all be sick and in need of medicine.”
“Sick...in need of medicine? Love,
what are you talking about? And why
would you even think that? No, sweetheart,
rabbits are frisky, happy animals.”
“Well, then, why are all those rabbits
I saw yesterday in the drug store wrapped
in cellophane, their skins stripped of fur
and sitting up with rigormortis?
“And while I’m on the subject, Dad,
that Easter egg tree you set up on
the front lawn yesterday but which I
refused to have anything to do with.
Even a five year old knows eggs
don’t grow on trees, much less
in color. Really, dad, what do you
take me for, a stupid adult?”
Copyright ©
Maurice Rigoler
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