The Watermelon

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It was hot, and I mean hot, when the three nuns got out of their car after arriving in the small southern town. Dressed in their habits, the heat seemed unbearable. As they walked through one of the poorer sections of down, they noted a middle aged lady happily eating watermelon on her front porch. She was sitting in a rocker, with her feet perched on the rail. He seemed to not have a care in the world and she looked cools a cucumber. Not a bead of sweat could be seen on her brow.

"Oh, Oh," said one of the nuns to the others, "looky there, I do believe that the sweet lady is wearing no underwear." The others looked closely, and then the head nun replied, "Well, I surmise that may be the way to stay cool in these parts, let's inquire, sisters." So the three nuns sheepishly approached our rocking lady, bid her good day, and approached the subject with some delicacy. The head nun finally asked, "We are so hot, and you seem so cool. I happened to notice, not that I was looking, but I happened to notice, you are not wearing any underwear. Is that the secret to keeping cool in these parts." In response our lady of the porch, leaded way back on her rocker, gave a big grin, spread her legs even more, and said, "You ‘all, I don't know 'bout dat, but it show do keep de flies off de watermelon . . . ."
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