When I told my son where milk comes from, he asked, “Mama, how do the cows sit on those lit­tle bot­tles?”

Country - - JOKES - DAR­LENE McFAD­DEN High­land, California

My Bak­ing Blun­der

A group of our friends from church were plan­ning a pic­nic, and it sounded like fun. The only prob­lem was that times had been a bit tight for me, as I was a sin­gle mother with four chil­dren. What did I have that we could con­trib­ute to the pic­nic? Then a thought struck. I could make a cherry pie! A friend had given me a quart of canned cher­ries that would make a very nice pie fill­ing. So I pre­pared the crust, thick­ened the cher­ries, and put the pie to­gether. When it came out of the oven, it looked so good and the aroma was won­der­ful. At the pic­nic, my fi­ance, Stu, was the first to take a bite of my pie. I saw a puz­zled look go across his face. Then he be­gan to spit out cherry pits. It had not oc­curred to me some­one would can cher­ries with­out pit­ting them first. How em­bar­rass­ing! Well, he mar­ried me any­way. And the cherry pie has been an in­side joke for the past 48 years.

PEGGY POTTLE Nampa, Idaho Cre­ative Read­ing

My 21/2-year-old grand­son, Sam, brought a col­or­ing book to me and said, “Read it.” I pro­ceeded to make up words to go with each page. When I fin­ished “read­ing,” Sam said, “I don’t think I’ve heard that story be­fore.” LAU­REL BARDEN Wax­haw, North Carolina

Hop and Both­ered

I was walk­ing along a back road when two bun­nies sud­denly leapt into the air and landed one on top of the other. To my as­ton­ish­ment, I saw that one had pushed the other onto a stout ground­hog. In dis­gust, he lifted his nose with a grunt and a dis­tinct snarl, as if to say, “These rab­bits nowa­days! What do they teach their chil­dren?” Af­ter the star­tled and likely em­bar­rassed bun­nies scut­tled away, the ground­hog stayed in the same po­si­tion for a few mo­ments be­fore wad­dling off, still in a huff. I’ll never forget that wood­chuck’s shocked face!

MARGIE NEL­SON Farm­ing­ton, Penn­syl­va­nia First Im­pres­sion

When my baby grand­daugh­ter LeeAnn came home from the hos­pi­tal, the aunts, un­cles and cousins were there to greet her. I showed her cousin Alex the baby and told him, “This is Grandma’s girl.” Alex replied, “You are not her grandma; she doesn’t even know you.”

SHARON JONES Pal­metto, Florida

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