A youth walks into the kitchen where his mom is fixing dinner. "Mom,
I got a splinter in my finger. Can I have a glass of cider?"
"Are you sure you don't want me to pull it out?"
"No thanks, just the cider."
So she gives him the cider and watches him trot contentedly off.
About fifteen minutes later the boy returns to the kitchen and again
asks his mother for a glass of cider. His mother, not wanting to
question his reasoning, gives him another glass and again watches him
leave happy.
Ten minutes later the boy returns once again and 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. So 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?" she asks.
"Well, Mom, I heard Sis on the phone say that whenever she has a
prick in her hand, she can't wait to get it in cider."
