“Where did you get that car?”He calmly told them, “I bought it today.”
“With what money!?” demanded his parents. “We know what a Porsche costs.”
“Well,” said the boy, “this one cost me fifteen dollars.”
The parents began to yell even louder. “Who would sell a car like that for fifteen dollars!?” they asked.
“It was the lady up the street,” said the boy. “Don’t know her name — they just moved in. She saw me ride past on my bike and asked me if I wanted to buy a Porsche for fifteen dollars.”
“Oh my goodness!” moaned the mother, “she must be a child abuser. Who knows what she will do next? John, you go right up there and see what’s going on.”
So the boy’s father walked up the street to the house where the lady lived and found her out in the yard calmly planting flowers. He introduced himself as the father of the boy to whom she had sold a Porsche to for fifteen dollars and demanded to know why she did it.
“Well,” she said, “this morning I got a phone call from my husband. I thought he was on a business trip, but I learned from a friend he has run off to Hawaii with his secretary. Then apparently she stole all his money and stranded him there!
Well he called me, without a dollar to his name, and asked me to sell his new Porsche and send him the money. So that’s exactly what I did.”