Sam was an extraordinary kid, At an early age, he excelled academically, devouring the arts, mastering the sciences, demonstrating phenomenal potential — optimism, benevolence, charisma, all exemplary virtues of a gifted child.
Physically, however, Sam was a late bloomer. He was always the last kid picked for dodge ball, always warming the bench; he had become an athletic pariah.
At age thirteen, with his summer vacation evaporating into the eighth grade, Sam decided to recast his athletic image, so he joined the high school football team.
His eligibility to play football was contingent upon a favorable sports physical.
Sam’s mother made an appointment with their pediatrician and the two arrived early one Monday morning. The doctor performed a routine physical, then called Sam’s mother into the exam room.
“He’s fine,” the doctor explained “However, for a thirteen year old he’s small, and has not reached puberty yet.”
“Cool!” Sam said, breathing a sigh of relief.
The doctor and Sam’s mother looked at one another perplexed.
“What’s so cool about that Sam?” asked his mother.
“Well . . . now I don’t have to do my own laundry.”
“Laundry? What does that have to do with puberty?”
“My seventh grade teacher said that when we reach puberty, we would start to have wet dreams.”
“So . . .” sam's mother said.
“My teacher said that’s when some of us might want to start doing our own laundry.”