George came home from University in tears.
"Mom, am I adopted?"
"No of course not!", replied his mother. "Why would you think such a thing?"
George showed her his genealogy DNA test results. No match for any of his relatives, and strong matches for a family who lived the other side of the city.
Perturbed, his mother called her husband. "Honey, George has done a DNA test, and... and... I don't know how to say this... he may not be our son."
"Well, obviously!" he replied.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"It was your idea in the first place" her husband said. "You remember, that first night in hospital when the baby did nothing but scream and cry and scream and cry. On and on. And you asked me to change him."
"I picked a good one I reckon. Ever so proud of George."
Don't fret because you're one year older. But if you need a caring shoulder Mine's right here, So have a cry. Although I can't imagine why? You're aging gracefully, you know? And getting wiser as you go.
Little Johnny comes downstairs crying.
His mother, concerned at her boy's tears, asked, "What’s the matter little Johnny?"
"Dad was hanging pictures, and just hit his thumb bang on with the hammer!" said little Johnny through his tears.
His mother was touched by the boy's sensitivity, but didn't like seeing him cry.
"That’s not so serious." She tried to soothe him. "Now I know you're upset, but a big boy like you shouldn’t cry at something like that. That's something to laugh about."
"I did!" sobbed Johnny.