Most people didn’t exactly celebrate when math class rolled around. Numbers, fractions, and endless formulas often brought more frustration than fun. For Little Johnny, math was pure misery — no matter how hard he tried, the numbers never seemed to make sense.

One afternoon, Johnny came home looking defeated. “Dad, I got an F in math today,” he sighed. His father, puzzled, asked what happened. Johnny explained, “The teacher asked me, ‘What’s three times two?’ and I said six.” His dad nodded. “So far, so good.”

“Then,” Johnny continued, “she asked, ‘What’s two times three?’ and I said six again.” His father frowned. “That’s still right. Why’d you get an F?” Johnny grinned and said, “That’s what I told her — ‘What’s the difference?’” His dad burst out laughing, shaking his head. Johnny might have been right, but attitude mattered more than math that day!

Now for another story — one with a bit more mess. Every morning, a man would wake up and let out thunderous farts, much to his wife’s disgust. She’d yell, “Stop before you blow your guts out one day!” But he always laughed it off.

Finally, she’d had enough. On Thanksgiving morning, while preparing the turkey, she grabbed its slimy innards and slipped them into his underwear as he slept. The next morning, the man woke up, farted loudly — and froze in horror. Feeling something wet, he screamed, “It happened! I blew my guts out!”

He locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour, panicking and grunting, while his wife tried not to laugh. When he finally emerged, pale and shaky, he said, “Honey, you were right… but with a little Vaseline and two fingers, I think I got them all back in.”

From that day on, mornings were much quieter — and far less explosive.