The New Yorker
Is a way of life
A father asked his 10-year old son if he knew about the birds and the bees. 'I don't want to know,' the child said, bursting into tears. 'Promise me you won't tell me.'
Confused, the father asked what was wrong.
The boy sobbed, 'When I was six, I got the 'There's no Easter Bunny' speech.
At seven, I got the 'There's no Tooth Fairy' speech.
When I was eight, you hit me with the 'There's no Santa' speech.
If you're going to tell me that grown-ups don't really get laid, I'll have nothing left to live for.'
Confused, the father asked what was wrong.
The boy sobbed, 'When I was six, I got the 'There's no Easter Bunny' speech.
At seven, I got the 'There's no Tooth Fairy' speech.
When I was eight, you hit me with the 'There's no Santa' speech.
If you're going to tell me that grown-ups don't really get laid, I'll have nothing left to live for.'
