The boy who asked too many questions

A young boy came home from school looking unusually serious.

“Dad,” he said, “my math teacher wants to see you.”

His father looked worried.

“Why? What happened?”

“Well, she asked me, ‘How much is seven times nine?’ I said, ‘Sixty-three.’ Then she asked, ‘How much is nine times seven?’”

“And what did you say?”

“I asked, ‘What’s the difference?’”

His father nodded thoughtfully.

“You know what? That’s actually a fair question. I’ll talk to her.”

The next afternoon, the boy came home again.

“Dad, when you visit the school, you should probably see the gym teacher too.”

“Why?”

“Today he told me to raise my left arm, then my right arm. Then he told me to raise my right leg.”

“Okay…”

“Then he said, ‘Now raise your left leg.’ So I asked him, ‘What exactly am I supposed to stand on?’”

His father sighed. “Fair point. I’ll talk to him too.”

The following day, the boy came home smiling.

“Dad, forget about visiting the school.”

“Why?”

“I got expelled.”

His father nearly dropped his coffee.

“What?! Why?”

“They called me into the principal’s office.”

“And who was there?”

“The principal, my math teacher, and my gym teacher.”

His father shook his head.

“Okay, I understand the math teacher. I understand the gym teacher. But why was the art teacher there?”

The boy looked at him with complete innocence.

“That’s exactly what I asked!”

Dad stared at his son for a moment and finally said, “Son, I think the school has finally found a subject you’re definitely failing common sense!”