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The teacher gave her fifth grade class an assignment:
Get their parents to tell them a story with a moral at the end of it. The next day, the kids came back and, one by one, began to tell their stories.
There were all the regular types of stuff . . . . . . spilled milk and pennies saved. But then the teacher realized that only Janie was left.
"Janie, do you have a story to share?"
"Yes ma'am. My daddy told me a story about my Mommy. She was a Marine pilot in Desert Storm and her plane got shot. She had to bail out over enemy territory. All she had was a flask of whiskey, a pistol, and a survival knife."
"She drank the whiskey on the way down so the bottle wouldn't break and then her parachute landed her right in the middle of 20 enemy Iraqi soldiers. She shot 15 of them with the pistol and then she ran out of bullets. Then she killed four more with her knife 'til the blade broke. Then she killed the last Iraqi with her bare hands."
''Good Heavens,' said the horrified teacher. What did your Daddy tell you was the moral to this horrible story?"
"Never fuck with Mommy when she's been drinking."
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