Daughter: Alexa, play Let It Go.
Dad: When I was your age, I had to call a radio station, wait on hold for 30 minutes to request a song, then sit by my boom box for an hour for my song to play with a blank cassette tape so I could record it.
Daughter: I don't understand any of that.
Dad: “Son, I named you after my father.”
After My Father: “I know, Dad, I know.”
I visited my new friend in his apartment.
He told me to make myself at home.
So I threw him out, I hate visitors.
Ferne Southern said she was staying with her 8-year-old granddaughter, Brooke, while her parents were out of town.
Brooke was delaying bedtime, as usual, so her grandmother told her about counting sheep to fall asleep.
The 8-year-old thought that was a good idea. Everything was quiet for a while. But just as grandmother was dozing off, a voice sounded:
"Nana?"
"Yes?"
"There are 38."