My two daughters were having a discussion about family resemblance.
"I look like Mom," said my nine-year-old, "but I have Dad's eyes and Dad's lips."
The six-year-old said, "And I look just like Dad, but I have light hair."
Then she turned to me. "Mom," she asked, "what does Dad have to do with us being born anyway?"
The older sister jumped right in, "Don't be stupid, Christina. Dad is the one who drove Mom to the hospital."
A girl was crying bitterly.
Mom: What happened dear?
Daughter: Mom do I look like a wicked witch?
Daughter: Are my eyes big as toad?
Daughter: Is my nose flat?
Mom: No baby!
Daughter: Am I fat like a bulldog?
Mom: You have a fine physique, you are a barbie doll!
Daughter: Then why people tell me that you look like your mom?
My son asked me if we could have a tree this Christmas. I told him I didn't want to pay for a tree and that's that.
He wouldn't stop asking though, every five minutes he wanted to know why we couldn't have a tree. In the end I grabbed my axe and stormed out of the house. Ten minuted later I returned with an eight foot Christmas tree.
"Wow," said my son. "You cut that down quick."
"Son," I replied, "I didn't cut it down, I got it from the local shop."
He looked puzzled and said, "Why did you take the axe then?"
"I told you, I didn't want to pay for a Christmas tree."
When I stopped the bus to pick up Chris for preschool, I noticed an older woman hugging him as he left the house.
"Is that your grandmother?" I asked.
"Yes," Chris said. "She's come to visit us for Christmas."
"How nice," I said. "Where does she live?"
"At the airport," Chris replied. "Whenever we want her, we just go out there and get her."