CIDER

A mangy redneck youth walks into the kitchen where his mom is fixing the night's dinner. "Mom, I got a splinter in my finger. Can I have a glass of cider?" asks the slack-jawed youth.

"Are you sure you don't want me to pull it out?"

"No thanks, just the cider."

"Well, sure," responds the youth's mother and gives her boy the cider and watches him trot off contentedly.

About 15 minutes later the boy returns to the kitchen and again asks him mother for a glass of cider. His mother, not wanting to question his reasoning, gives him another glass and again watches him leave happily.

Ten minutes later the boy returns and once again asks for a glass of cider. The mother complies with her son's wishes again, but her curiosity has been piqued to the point where she can't resist knowing why any longer. She wanders into the family room and sees her son sitting in front of the TV with his finger in the glass.

"Why on earth do you have your finger in that glass?" asks the boy's mother.

"Well, mom, I heard sis on the phone say that whenever she had a prick in her hand, she couldn't wait to get it in cider."