When do you start cussing in front of your mom?
Two boys are upstairs lying in their bed. The older boy asks, “You know what? I think it’s about time we started cussing.” The younger boy nods his head in approval.
The older boy continues, “When we go downstairs for breakfast, I’m gonna say something with hell and you say something with ass.”
When the mother walks into the kitchen and asks the older kid what he wants for breakfast, he replies, “Aw, hell, Mom, I guess I’ll have some Cheerios.
WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear with every step. His mom locks him in his room and shouts, “You can stay there until I let you out!”
She then comes back downstairs, looks at the younger boy and asks with a stern voice, “And what do YOU want for breakfast, young man?”
“I don’t know,” he blubbers, “but you can bet your fat ass it won’t be Cheerios!”
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