Great Singer

From Reader's Digest, June 1992: I grew up in a non-musical family; only one of our five siblings can even carry a tune. So, I've restricted my singing to private places like the bathtub or the car. But one night, I softly sang a lullaby to my nine-month-old baby. After the first verse, he sweetly looked into my eyes, removed the pacifier from his mouth and placed it in mine.

You Don't Have To

Homer: Boy, you don't have to follow in my footsteps.
Bart: Don't worry, I don't even like using the bathroom after you.
Homer: Why you little -- !

On Inheritance

A little boy went up to his father and asked: "Dad, where did all of my intelligence come from?" The father replied: "Well, son, you must have gotten it from your mother, 'cause I still have mine."