An inquisitive young boy is talking to his mother.
“Mommy, how old are you?”
“Oh, that’s quite personal, son, and besides it’s not polite to ask a woman her age.”
“Ok, mommy, then tell me, um, how much do you weigh?”
“Well, I can’t tell you that either, a woman’s weight is a secret.”
The boy was getting a bit frustrated by now. “If you can’t tell me that, can you tell me why you and Daddy split up?”
“Someday I’ll explain it to you but it’s all quite complicated and I don’t think you’d understand.”
The boy wandered off unfulfilled but kept all of this in the back of his mind. The next day in school, he was talking to one of his school chums and was told to look at his mom’s driver’s license. That would have all of his answers.
So very early the next morning he snuck into her wallet and looked at her driver’s license. When she awoke, he said, “I know how old you are!”
She said, “You do? How old am I?”
“You’re 31. And I know how much you weigh, too!”
“Oh,” she said, getting curious, “how much is that?”