What’s the first thing …

Johnny,” says the teacher, “what’s the first thing your father does in the morning?”

“He takes a shit, sir,” says Johnny.

“Oh,” says the teacher, “and what does your father do for a living?”

“He’s a bricklayer,” says Johnny.

The teacher thinks, hmm, working class, what else can you expect?

“Bobby,” says the teacher, “what’s the first thing your father does in the morning?”

“He takes a shit, sir,” says Bobby.

“Hmm,” says the teacher, “and what does your father do for a living?”

“He’s a joiner,” says Johnny.

The teacher sees this as confirming his suspicions about the lack of linguistic skills among working class children.

“Freddy,” he says. “What does your father do for a living?”

“He’s a lawyer, sir” says Freddy.

“And what’s the first thing your father does in the morning?”

“He reads The Times, sir,” says Freddy.

“Interesting,” says the teacher, “and how much time does he spend reading the paper?”

“Not long,” says Freddy, “just until he’s finished taking a shit.”😂

The teacher stands in front of the class and decides to spark a conversation.

“Johnny,” she asks, “what’s the first thing your father does in the morning?”

Johnny confidently replies, “He takes a dump, miss.”

The teacher raises an eyebrow. “Oh… and what does your father do for a living?”

“He’s a bricklayer,” Johnny says.

The teacher nods, thinking, Well, not too surprising.

She turns to another student. “Bobby, what about your father? What’s the first thing he does in the morning?”

“He takes a dump too, miss,” Bobby answers.

Trying to hide her amusement, she follows up. “And what does your father do for work?”

“He’s a carpenter,” Bobby says.

The teacher sighs, assuming she’s identified a pattern.

Determined to shift the conversation, she calls on Freddy, the most well-dressed student in the room.

“Freddy, what does your father do for a living?”

“He’s a lawyer, miss,” Freddy replies proudly.

The teacher nods approvingly. “And what’s the first thing he does in the morning?”

Freddy shrugs. “He reads the newspaper, miss.”

The teacher smiles, finally hearing something different. “Ah, I see! And how long does he spend reading the paper?”

Freddy grins. “Just until he’s done taking a dump!”


Same punchline, fresh delivery! 😂

Related Posts

When my “mute” grandson finally spoke, his first whisper at my kitchen table shattered our quiet babysitting week—and unleashed the most terrifying seven days of my life

My name is Lucinda Morrison, and I was sixty-six years old the October my world turned upside down in our quiet little town just outside Columbus, Ohio….

My MIL Gave My Daughter a Gift for Her 8th Birthday, Then Snatched It Back Seconds Later – I Was Ready to Go Off When My Husband Suddenly Spoke Up

My daughter Abby turned eight last weekend, and she’d been counting down like it was Christmas, her birthday, and the first day of summer rolled into one….

A Decade of Questions, Answered by a Single Letter

The morning after her wedding, my sister was gone.No note. No phone call. Just absence. For ten years, that absence shaped everything. We lived with questions that…

Popular Star Passed Away At Age 42

Verónica Echegui has died at the age of 42. According to local reports cited by the Daily Mail, she passed away on Sunday at a hospital in…

70 year old man k!lls his own wife after discovering that she was M… see more

The incident unfolded quickly, leaving a family and community grappling with shock. Police say a 70-year-old man is accused of killing his wife of several decades after…

I Told My Son His Wife Was Using Him—Two Years Later, He Begged Me to Come at 3 A.M.

I remember the exact words I said, because they are the ones that broke my relationship with my son. “She’s using you,” I said sharply. “Three children,…