PHHenry was doing his math homework, muttering to himself:
“2 + 5, the son of a b*tch is 7.”
“3 + 6, the son of a b*tch is 9.”
His mother overheard and said,
“Henry! What is with all the cussing?!”
“Oh Mom, don’t disturb me. I’m just doing my math homework.”
“Is that how your teacher taught you?!” she asked.
“Yes, Mom.”
Fuming, she picked up her phone and called the teacher:
“Are you teaching kids by saying... 2 + 2, the son of a b*tch is 4?!”
There was silence... then the teacher burst out laughing and said,
“What I said was... 2 + 2, THE SUM OF WHICH IS 4.”
“2 + 5, the son of a b*tch is 7.”
“3 + 6, the son of a b*tch is 9.”
His mother overheard and said,
“Henry! What is with all the cussing?!”
“Oh Mom, don’t disturb me. I’m just doing my math homework.”
“Is that how your teacher taught you?!” she asked.
“Yes, Mom.”
Fuming, she picked up her phone and called the teacher:
“Are you teaching kids by saying... 2 + 2, the son of a b*tch is 4?!”
There was silence... then the teacher burst out laughing and said,
“What I said was... 2 + 2, THE SUM OF WHICH IS 4.”