At a party an elderly lady was bemoaning the behavior of the youth of today.
“Look at the girl over there,” she complained. “I don’t know what young girls are coming to! She’s wearing boy’s jeans, a boy’s shirt, and that haircut is so boyish – you wouldn’t know she was a girl at all, would you?”
“Well, as it happens, I would,” came the reply, “because she is my daughter.”
“Oh dear,” said the old lady embarrassed, “I’m so sorry – I didn’t know you were her father.”
“I’m not, I’m her mother.”
