A mother is driving her little girl to her friend’s house for a play date.
“Mommy,” the little girl asks, “how old are you?”
“Honey, you are not supposed to ask a lady her age,” the mother replied. “It’s not polite.”
“OK”, the little girl says, “How much do you weigh?”
“Now really,” the mother says, “those are personal questions and are really none of your business.”
Undaunted, the little girl asks, “Why did you and Daddy get a divorce?”
“That’s enough questions, young lady! Honestly!”
The exasperated mother walks away as the two friends begin to play.
“My Mom won’t tell me anything about her,” the little girl says to her friend.
“Well,” says the friend, “all you need to do is look at her driver’s license. It’s like a report card, it has everything on it.”
Later that night the little girl says to her mother, “I know how old you are. You are 32.”
The mother is surprised and asks, “How did you find that out?”
“I also know that you weigh 130 pounds.”
The mother is past surprised and shocked now. “How in Heaven’s name did you find that out?”
“And,” the little girl says triumphantly, “I know why you and daddy got a divorce.”
“Oh really?” the mother asks. “Why?”
“Because you got an F in s*x.”
One day a little girl was sitting and watching her mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink.
She suddenly noticed that her mother had several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head.
She looked at her mother and inquisitively asked, “Why are some of your hairs white, Mom?”
Her mother replied, “Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white.”
The little girl thought about this revelation for a while and then said, “Momma, how come ALL of grandma’s hairs are white?”
Everyone was seated around the table as the food was being served.
When little Logan received his plate, he started eating right away.
“Logan, wait until we say our prayer,” his mother reminded him.
“I don’t have to,” the little boy replied.
“Of course you do,” his mother insisted, “we say a prayer before eating at our house.”
“That’s at our house,” Logan explained, “but this is Grandma’s house and she knows how to cook.”