Yesterday I turned over in my grave.

Sometimes, kids are awesome.

(Note the key word, "sometimes.")

I read some Halloween jokes to the kids that had off school today, and honestly, their guesses at the responses were way funnier than the mostly lame punchlines. I present to you the best of what came out of their befuddled mouths:

Why don't angry witches ride their brooms?
They need to sweep their angry floor.

Where do baby ghosts go during the day?
They "ghost" to sleep.

Who did Frankenstein take to the prom?
His mom.

What does a ghost eat for lunch?

What is a ghost's favorite article of clothing?
Ghost panties.

Who did the ghost invite to his party?
His mom.

Why didn't the skeleton dance at the party?
Because he would have broken his bones.

Where do most werewolves live?
On top of the rocks. (?????)

Sheer hilarity arrived when I asked what you call a witch who lives at the beach (or whatever), and one poor girl tried to say 'beach witch' but - well...dyslexia, anyone?

Sheer. Hilarity.