Just Testing..Kids Answers
Lincoln abby probKID’s Say the Fumiest things

I asked my 3 year old to clean her toy room which was extremely messy.  Five minutes later, she came upstairs…

Me: You cleaned your WHOLE toy room already?

She nodded.

Me: So any toys that are left on the ground can be given to poor kids?

Her: “Yep”….long pause….”But you can’t go down to check because there’s a monster down there!”

One kid bites the other. His defense? “He fell into my mouth!”



“Grandma is so good with kids! Why didn’t she have any of her own?!”


Q: What do you get when you cross a stream and a brook?

A: Wet feet!

Q: What has 40 feet and sings?

A: A choir!

Q: How do you spot a modern spider?

A: He doesn’t have a web, he has a website!

Q: What do you do when two snails have a fight?

A: Leave them to slug it out!


A priest, a rabbi, a doctor and a lawyer are gathered at a mutual friend’s graveside to mourn his passing.

The priest says to the others, “I think our good friend would have liked to take something with him to his next life.” He pulls a $100 bill from his wallet and drops it on the casket.

The rabbi agrees, “That’s a fine idea,” and drops his own $100 bill on the casket.

The doctor, not to be outdone, does the same.

The lawyer murmurs, “What a wonderful thought,” as he gazes down at their friend’s casket. Whipping out his pen, he quickly writes a check for $400, drops it into the grave and takes the three $100 bills as change.

Whole Art

At an art gallery, a woman and her 10 year old son were having a tough time choosing between two paintings. They finally chose and went with the autumn themed one.

“I see you prefer an autumn scene as opposed to a floral one,” said the gallery owner, who happened to be nearby and witnessed the mother-son interaction.

“No,” said the boy. “This painting is wider, so it’ll cover the three holes I put in the wall.”


A friend of mine was a philosophy major during his first semester in college. One day in a seminar class, they spent a great deal of time debating whether the glass was half full or half empty. After the class, my friend was feeling pretty good about himself and what he was learning at university, so when he went home, he tried to continue the discussion with his family.

With maximum drama, he took a 12 ounce glass from the cupboard and poured in 6 ounces of water. Then took it into the dining room and placed it in the middle of the table. He proudly asked his family, “Can anyone tell me whether this glass is half full or half empty.” Without missing a beat, his grandmother replied, “Depends if you’re drinking or pouring.”


“She-was-a-good-wife-to-me. A good wife, God bless her!” The words were spoken in trembling accents over a coffin-lid. The woman asleep there had borne the heat and burden of life’s long day, and no one had ever heard her murmur, her hand was quick to reach out a helping grasp to those who fell by the wayside; and her feet were swift on errands of mercy; the heart of her husband had trusted in her; he had left her to long hours of solitude, while he amused himself in scenes in which she had no part.  When boon companions deserted him, when fickle affect selfishly departed, when pleasure palled, he went home and found her waiting for him.

“Come from your long, long roving,

On life’s sea so bleak and rough;

Come to me tender and loving,

And I shall be blessed enough.”

That had been her love-song – always on her lips or in her heart.  Children had been born to them.  She had reared them almost alone – they were gone!  Her hand had led them to the uttermost edge of the morning that had no noon.  The she had comforted hom, sent him out strong and whole-hearted, while she stayed at home and – cried.  What can a woman do but cry – and trust?  Well, she is at rest now.  But she could not die until he had promised to “bear up;” not to fret but to remember how happy they had been.  They?  Yes, it is even so.  For she was blest in giving and he in receiving.  It was an equal partnership after all!  “She – was – a – good – wife – to – me.”  O man!  Man!  Why not have told her so, when her ears were not dulled by death?  Why wait to say these words over a coffin wherein lies a wasted, weary, gray-haired woman, whose eyes have so long held that pathetic story of loss and suffering and patient yearning which so many women’s eyes reveal – to those who read.  Why not have made the wilderness in her heart blossom like the rose with the prodigality of your love?   Now you would give worlds – were they yours to give – to see the tears of joy your words would have once caused, bejeweling the closed windows of her soul.  It is too late.

“We have careful thoughts for the stranger,

And smiles for the sometimes guest;

But oft for our own, the bitter tone,

Though we love our own the best.” – Sel.