A man and his wife decide to buy a farm and raise pigs. They start with three female pigs.
One day they decide its time to make some baby pigs, so they load their pigs into the back of a truck and drive them over to the farm of a friend. The friend puts their pigs into his sty with some enthusiastic male pigs, and they head into the farmhouse for a cup of coffee while the pigs do what comes naturally.
Afterwards, with the pigs back in the truck, the new farmers start to leave. Just before they leave the man asks his friend, How will I know if my pigs are pregnant?
Thats easy, says his friend. When you get up in the morning, check your pigs. If they are playing in the mud, theyre pregnant. If theyre playing in the dry dirt, they arent.
The next morning the farmer wakes up, gets out of bed, stretches, yawns, and scratches in the appropriate places. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he walks over to the bedroom window and looks down at his pigs in the sty. They are playing in the dry dirt.
Darn, I was going to plant the beans today, he complains. Oh, well.
He loads the pigs back into his truck and drives them over to his friends farm. The pigs are herded into the pen while he and his friend go into the house for another cup of coffee.
Upon waking in the morning the farmer gets up, shuffles over to the window and looks down at his pigs. Once again, they are playing in the dry dirt.
Shoot. I guess that back forty isnt going to get plowed this morning.
With the pigs back in the truck, the farmer heads over to his friends place a third time.
Rising the next morning he looks out the window and the pigs are playing in the dry dirt once again. And yet again, he loads his pigs into the truck and drives over to his friends farm.
This routine occurs three more times. Each morning he arises, checks his pigs, and each morning they are playing in the dry dirt.
On the seventh morning the farmer just cant bear to look, so he asks his wife to get up and check the pigs. The whole thing is getting under his skin, and he is losing valuable time. It just cant be that hard to get pigs pregnant, he mutters under his breath.
His wife, half asleep, shambles her way over to the window, parts the curtains, looks out, and doesnt say a word.
Oh, great, the farmer complains, theyre playing in the dry dirt again.
No, says his wife, theyre not in the dry dirt.
You mean theyre playing in the mud? he asks, hopefully.
No, they arent in the mud , she replies.
Then what the heck are they doing? asks the mystified farmer.
The wife answers, Well, two of the pigs are in the back of the truck, and one is in the front seat trying to honk the horn.
