Politics

Son: Dad, I have to do a special report for school. Can I ask you a question?
Father: Sure son, what's the question?
Son: What is politics?
Father: Well, let's take our home for example. I am the wage earner, so let's call me management. Your mother is the administrator of the money, so we'll call her government. We take care of your needs, so let's call you the people. We'll call the maid the working class and your baby brother we will call the future. Do you understand?
Son: I'm not really sure, dad. I'll have to think about it.

That night, awakened by his baby brother's crying, the boy went to see what was wrong. Discovering the baby had seriously soiled his diaper, the boy went to his parents' room and found his mother sound asleep. He then went to the maid's room where, peeking through the key hole, he saw his father in bed with the maid. The boy's knocking went totally unheard by his father and the maid, so the boy returned to his room and went back to bed.

The next morning:
Son: Dad, now I think I understand politics.
Father: That's great, son, explain it to me in your own words.
Son: Well, dad, while management is screwing the working class the government is sound asleep. The people are being completely ignored, and the future is full of shit.

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© 2001 almorey@thwy.net

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