Mulla Nasrudin was watching youngsters put on a horse show. He said to a bystander, “It’s terrible the way they dress today. Just look at that young boy with the cigarette, sloppy haircut, and tight breeches.”
“That is not a boy,” said the other. “It’s a girl and she’s my daughter.” “Oh, excuse me, Sir,” said the Mulla. “I meant no offence. I didn’t know you were her father.”
“I am not,” said the other. “I am her mother.”