
The afternoon sun was streaming through the windows of the city bus as it rumbled along its route. An energetic little boy, maybe seven or eight years old, hopped on board and took a seat right behind the driver. Bored and looking for attention, the boy started playing a little game of make-believe out loud.
“If my mom was a hen, and my dad was a rooster,” the boy announced to the back of the driver’s seat, “I would be a little rooster!”
The bus driver, who was already having a long, exhausting shift, glanced in the rearview mirror. “Shut up back there,” he grumbled, keeping his eyes on the road.
But the boy wasn’t deterred. A few minutes later, he started up again. “If my mom was a female elephant, and my dad was a male elephant, I would be a little male elephant!”
“Shut up!” the driver barked, his patience wearing thin.
Still, the kid kept going, completely unfazed. “If my mom was a female dog, and my dad was a male dog, I would be a little male dog!”
By now, the driver was absolutely fuming. He couldn’t take the relentless chatter anymore. He glared into the rearview mirror, his face red, and decided to shut the kid down with a question of his own.
“Alright, listen here, kid,” the driver snapped. “If your mom was a prostitute, and your dad was a total jerk, what would you be?”
The bus fell completely silent. The boy didn’t even blink. He just leaned forward, looked right at the back of the driver’s head, and answered with perfect, innocent sincerity:
“A bus driver.”
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