A blight future

A 3rd grade teacher announced, “When I call on you, I want you to say what you want to be when you grow up, and spell it.”
She called on Ann, who said, “When I grow up, I want to be an artist. A-R-T-I-S-T.”
Then it was Timmy’s turn: “I want to be a fireman. F-I-R-E-M-A-N.”
She called on Clem, who said, “When ah grow up, ah want to be a psychiatrist. S-I-K… wait a second… S-E-Y-E… no, that’s not it, um, I’ll get it… S-I-C-K-I… duh, ah give up!”
Finally, the teacher called on Nick, who announced, “I want to be a Bookie, B-O-O-K-I-E. If I were a bookie right now, I’d lay you three-to-one odds that Clem ain’t never going to be a psychiatrist!”

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One Response to “A blight future”

  1. Bill Edwards Says:

    I predict that Nick in adult life will do 1. Market Research, 2. horse’s behind handicapping, or become 3) Non-licensed urologist/ob-gyn. It’s just a G-U-E-S-S.

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