Teacher teacher Jokes - page 18

Lots of Little Johnny jokes

Teacher: Little Johnny, go to the map and find North America. Little Johnny: Here it is! Teacher: Correct. Now, class, who discovered America? Class: Little Johnny! —- Teacher: Are you chewing gum? Little Johnny: No, I’m Little Johnny. —- Teacher: How can one person make so many stupid mistakes in one day? Little Johnny: I get up early. —- Teacher; Didn’t you promise to behave? Little Johnny: Yes, sir. Teacher: And didn’t I promise to punish you if you didn’t?…

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Correcting Little Johnny’s Grammar

During recess, Little Johnny was seen crying in the corner of the classroom. So his teacher Mrs. Smith approached Little Johnny to ask why he was crying. Between sobs, Little Johnny said, “Billy hitted me in the head!” Being a teacher, Mrs. Smith could not resist correcting Little Johnny’s grammar. So she said, “Billy hit me in the head.” Little Johnny then stopped crying and smiled as he said, “You too? Boy, that Billy is in BIG trouble now!”

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Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road????

Chicken Anyone? Why did the chicken cross the road? Kindergarten Teacher: To get to the other side. Plato: For the greater good. Aristotle: It is the nature of chickens to cross roads. Buddha: Asking this question denies your own chicken nature. Machiavelli: The point is that the chicken crossed the road. Who cares why? The end of crossing the road justifies whatever motive there was. Karl Marx: It was an historically inevitability. Martin Luther King, Jr.: I envision a world…

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Christmas Gifts

Just after classes resumed from Christmas break, a young girl was telling her teacher what he had received from Santa. “Me got a Barbie from Santa,” said the little girl. “I got a Barbie from Santa,” corrected the teacher. “Me, too!” replied the child.

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Politically-Correct Little Red Riding Hood

There once was a young person named Little Red Riding Hood who lived on the edge of a large forest full of endangered owls and rare plants that would probably provide a cure for cancer if only someone took the time to study them. Red Riding Hood lived with a nurture giver whom she sometimes referred to as “mother”, although she didn’t mean to imply by this term that she would have thought less of the person if a close…

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God, the Artist

A Sunday School teacher began her lesson with a question. “Boys and girls, what do we know about God?” A hand shot up in the air. “He is an artist!” said the kindergarten boy. “Really?! How do you know that?” the teacher asked. “You know–‘Our Father, who does art in Heaven….’”

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Baby Words

A kindergarden teacher wanted to teach her kids ‘grown up’ words one day. She would ask her kids to describe something and tell them the correct form of the words that were babyish. She asked the first student, “Nicole, what machine moves on railroad tracks?” Nicole answered, “The choo-choo!” The teacher said, “No, you mean the train.” Nicole replied, “The train!” The teacher rewarded her with a gold star. Next the teacher called on Kevin. The teacher asked, “What pet…

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Birds and Cones

Little Johnny was sitting in the class, Miss Jones asked him, “If there are 5 birds sitting on a fence and you shoot one, how many are left?” “None”, Johnny replies. The teacher, astonished, asked Johnny to explain “Well,” Little Johnny replies, “The sound of the gunshot will scare the other birds and they will fly away.” The teacher responded, “The correct answer is 4, but I appreciate your way of matured thinking, maybe you are right”. Little Johnny then…

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Who’s Having Fun?

Clifton Fadiman had occasion to visit the kindergarten class of a highly progressive school attended by his son, Jonathan. The children were engaged in “rhythmic play,” where they were following the lead of their teacher, an energetic young woman, who danced about the room clapping her hands in time to the music of a record player. The docile pupils staggled behind her in ragged fashion. Later Fadiman drew his son aside and said, “I guess you have lots of fun…

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Who’s There?

Three people were trying to get into heaven. St. Peter asked the first one, “Who’s there?” “It’s me, Albert Jones,” the voice replied. St. Peter let him in. St Peter then asked the second one the same question, “Who’s there?” “It’s me, Charlie Smith,” And St. Peter let him in. He finally asked the third one, “Who’s there?” “It is I, Verla Mara,” answered the third person. “Oh, great!” muttered St. Peter. “Another one of those English teachers.”

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