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Funny Kid QuotesKids say the funniest things. 
The fresh and original humor of little folks is almost always unconscious, unrehearsed and uttered without regard to effect. And usually mercilessly honest. A treat, nonetheless, to every man and woman who has reared a family. The funny kid quotes here are old, so the verbiage is dated, but can’t you see any child of this era uttering some of the same? I hope you enjoy our collection of funny kid quotes. Just goes to show, you never know what memorable and humorous quotes your kids might say! *****************
Funny Kid Quotes*****************A little lady of my acquaintance, who had not yet seen her fourth birthday, was one morning told by her mother that she could not get out to play—the frost was too severe. "Who makes the frost, ma?" was asked. "God, dear." "What does He make frost for?" "To kill the worms." "And why does He make worms, and has to make frost to kill them?" *****************The same little miss was listening one evening to a newspaper report being read, which told how a man in a storm of wind had been blown with a ladder from a house top in Glasgow, and was killed. "Who makes the wind?" she asked sharply. She was told. "And does God make the bad winds that kills the mans?" was demanded. There was no reply; but she read the silence as meaning "yes," and turning to leave the room she muttered more to herself than otherwise, "When I die and go to Heaven I think I'll have some questions for God." *****************When repeating the Pater-noster one evening she stuck at the first sentence, and wanted to know "If God is our Father in Heaven who is our Mother in Heaven?" But the mother was saved this time by the interposition of the little one's elder brother, who, with stern emphasis, exclaimed, "Stupid! God's wife, of course." *****************A little boy relative of that same little girl returned from school one day, while he was but a pupil in the infant department, and stepping proudly up to where his father was seated, "Pa," he exclaimed, "I am the cleverest boy in the class." "Indeed," returned the parent, "I am proud to hear that; but who said it?" "The teacher." "If the teacher said so, it surely must be true. What did she say, though?" "She said, 'Stand up the cleverest boy in the class,' and I stood up." *****************The same little fellow was on the way to school with a friend one morning, towards the end of December, when the two were attracted by the appearance of a sweep on the chimney of a neighboring building. "I know what that man's doin' up there," he asserted; "he's sweepin' the chimney for Santa Claus to get down." And that recalls the story I once heard of a little man in the town of Gowrie. It happened on an evening towards the close of the year, as he was preparing for bed, and was sitting by the fire with his first liberated stocking in his hand, that he looked over to his mother, and "Mother," he asked, "will I get a pair o' new stockin's before Christmas?" "Maybe, laddie; but why do you ask?" "Because"—and he spoke mournfully, as he stuck his fingers through a large hole in the toe—"if Santa Claus puts anything inta these ones, it'll fall out." *****************At the tea table one afternoon where the company was mostly composed of the smaller fry, and an incident, important to all, was mentioned, which had happened some seven or eight years before. Several of the older children declared, truthfully, that they remembered it quite well. "So do I mind o' it," asserted a little fellow about five. "How could you mind o' it?" questioned scornfully an older brother; "you wasna born at the time." "I can," as scornfully returned the younger theologian; "I was dust at the time; but I mind o' it well enough." *****************The little girl of a friend of mind—while still of very tender years—was first taken to church by her aunt. On the way home, and soon after leaving the portals of the sacred edifice, she looked up solemnly in her guardian's face, and, "Auntie," she asked, "was yon God on the mantel-piece?" She referred doubtless to the minister in the pulpit. Don't think of irreverence, my reader! The child, in its atmosphere of perfect innocence, knows not the word. And bear that in mind further when I tell you of a little boy and girl—both of whom I know well—who were having a walk with me one Sunday in early Autumn, when suddenly a railway train appeared in view. A train on Sunday! They were staggered by the sight; and the boy demanded to know why it should be there. "Oh, I know," exclaimed the girl, after some reflection; "it'll be God coming back from his holidays." *****************The question, "Can prayer be answered?" may be often discussed by grown-up minds. It is never raised by the children. No doubts trouble them in that relation. They are quite certain they will get what they ask for. Perfect confidence in that alone could have made it possible for a certain little miss, who, when being put to bed in a tired condition, and asked to say her prayer, began: “this night I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord. . . ,“ then gave a long, loud yawn, and added, "Oh God, I am awfully sleepy—you know the rest"—making it, in her rude simplicity, a finely trustful and beautiful prayer. *****************"Give us each day our daily bread," was the honest petition of a little fellow—who, however, recalling probably some recent violent experiences, immediately added—"but please don’t let our Lizzie bake it." *****************An elaborately trained little fellow who had nightly to pray for blessings on "mamma, and papa, grandpapa, and grandmamma," and all his uncles, his aunts, and his cousins, committing each by name, after exhausting the catalogue one evening, heaved a heavy sigh and exclaimed wearily, "Oh, dear, I wish these people would pray for themselves, for I am so tired of praying for them all!" *****************A little girl, whose baby brother had died, was told that he had gone to Heaven, and that night she refused to pray—"Take me to Heaven for Jesus' sake"—because, as she said; "I don't want to go to Heaven, I want to stay here, with ma, and pa, and dolly." Were all prayers as honest, many of them, I suspect, would be much shorter than they are. *****************I have heard of a little boy who was continually being told that he should be good. "And if I am gooder, and gooder," he asked, "what will I be?" "Oh, you will be a little angel." "But I don't want to be an angel," he retorted; "I want to be an engine-driver." *****************Not many years ago it happened in a village in Perthshire that twins arrived in a family, and next day one of the little misses of the house was out on the street playing, when a neighboring lady came up to where she was, and, "So you've got two little babies at home, Bizzie," she remarked. "Yes," responded the little one, very solemnly; "and do you know, my father was away at Edinburgh when the doctor brought them. But it was a good thing my mother was in; for if she hadna been, there would have been nobody in the house but me, and I wouldna have known what to do wi' them." *****************They tell this delightful story of the little daughter of Professor Van Dyke, of the Philadelphia University:— "Papa, where were you born?" "In Boston, my dear." "Where was mamma born?" "In San Francisco." "And where was I born?" "In Philadelphia." "Well, pap, isn't it funny how we three people got together?" *****************A little boy who was often taken to stay with his grandmother and grandfather—the latter a very feeble old man, bald and toothless. This little fellow was told that his father and mother had "bought" a nice new baby brother for him. The little man was much interested by the news, and was taken to see the new arrival. He looked at it with astonishment for a few seconds, then remarked—"Why, he's got no hair, father!" This was at once admitted. "And he's got no teeth," observed the boy again, touching another fact which could not be denied. Then a long and thoughtful pause ensued, after which the little critic (who had probably been comparing the baby with his grandfather), observed confidentially—"I'll tell you what, father; if they called him a new baby, they've taken you in—he's an old 'un!" *****************The somersaultic cleverness by which a child will get out of an awkward situation has been often revealed, but seldom with more humor than in the two succeeding illustrations. **********************************The children had asked permission to get up a play, and it had been granted on the condition that they did it all themselves without help or hint. As the eldest was only ten they accepted the condition with alacrity, for young children hate to be interfered with and hampered by their elders. When the evening came and the family and audience had collected, the curtain was drawn back and revealed the heroine (aged nine), who stated with impassioned sobs that her husband had been in South Africa for the past three years, but that she was expecting his return. Truly enough the hero (aged ten) entered, and proceeded, after affectionate but hasty greetings, to give his wife an eloquent account of his doings, the battles he had fought, the Boers he had killed, and the honors he had won. When he at last paused for breath, his wife rose, and taking his hand led him to the back, where a short curtain covered a recess. "I, too, dear," she said proudly, "have not been idle." And pulling back the curtain she displayed six cradles occupied by six large baby dolls! *****************One day a gentleman walking down a street observed a little boy seated on a doorstep. Going up to him, he said, "Well, my little chap, how is it you are sitting outside on the doorstep, when I see through the window all the other young folks inside playing games and having a good time? Why aren't you inside joining in the fun?" "I guess, stranger, that I'm in this game." replied the boy. "But how can you be, when you are out on the doorstep, and the others are all inside?" "Oh, I'm in the show right enough. You see, we're playing at being married. I'm the baby, and I'm not born yet!"
*****************"I say, father," asked a little fellow as he raised his eyes off his home lesson, "Who invented the multiplication table?" "Oh, I don't know," he was answered; "it was invented long ago; why?" "Well, I was thinking if the gentleman that invented it didn't know it already, he must have had a tough job; and if he did know it, what was the good of him inventing it at all?" *****************It was a cloudy and moonless night when a little fellow was taken out by his mother, who went to call for a friend. "Mamma," he exclaimed, looking up, "I expect God's been very busy this evening, for I see He has forgotten to hang the stars out." *****************She was a very small Miss who went to church alone one day, where an organ had recently been introduced. As she stood gazing about just within the door, an elder approached, and asked where she would prefer to sit. "Well," she said pertly, "if there's a monkey, I would like to be near the organ; but if there's no' a monkey, I'll just sit ony place." *****************A youngster, who was sent by his parent to take a letter to the post office and pay the postage on it. The boy returned highly elated, and said: "Father, I seed a lot of men putting letters in a little place; and when no one was looking, I slipped yours in for nothing." *****************Two little London girls who had been sent by the kindness of the vicar's wife to have "a happy day in the country," narrating their experiences on their return, said, "Oh, yes, mum, we did 'ave a happy day. We saw two pigs killed and a gentleman buried." *****************
Two small boys walking down Tottenham Court Road, passed a tobacconist's shop. The bigger remarked—"I say, Bill, I've got a ha-penny, and if you've got one too, we'll have a penny smoke between us." Bill produced his copper, and Tommy, diving into the shop, promptly re-appeared with a penny cigar in his mouth. The boys walked side by side for a few minutes, when the smaller mildly said, "I say, Tom, when am I to have a puff? The weed's half mine." "Oh, you shut up," was the business-like reply. "I'm the chairman of this company, and you are only a shareholder. You can spit." *****************A little boy of tender years was sitting on the doorstep of a house in Bridgeton, there, the other morning, crying bitterly, when a girl of about the same age accosted him, "What are ye greetin' for, laddie?" she inquired, in sympathetic tones. "Did onybody hit ye?" "N-n-na," sobbed the boy. "Then, what is't ye're greetin' for?" the little damsel went on. "'Cause my wee brither's gane to heaven," exclaimed the little fellow, bitterly, between his sobs. "Oh!" ejaculated the girl; and then, after a pause, "but ye shouldna greet like that—maybe he hasna." *****************A little fellow came home from school crying bitterly, and altogether manifesting great sorrow. "What's the matter, Geordie," sympathetically inquired his mother, "has onybody been hittin' ye?" "N-n-n-o," answered the boy between his sobs. "Then, what are you crying about?" she went on. "Boo! hoo! wee Sammy Sloan's faither an' mither hae flitted to Coatbrig!" "Tuts, laddie, dinna greet about that," she exclaimed, re-assuringly, "there's plenty mair laddies bidin' in the street besides Sammy Sloan that ye can play wi'." "I ken that," said Geordie, with another sob, "but he was the only yin I could lick." *****************A little boy was reading the story of a missionary having been eaten by cannibals. "Papa," he asked, "will the missionary go to heaven?" "Yes, my son," replied the father. "And will the cannibals go there, too?" queried the youthful student. "No," was the reply. After thinking the matter over for some time, the little fellow exclaimed—"Well, I don't see how the missionary can go to heaven if the cannibals don't, when he's inside the cannibals." *****************One Sunday evening, while sitting on his mother's knee listening to the story of Jonah being swallowed by the whale, a little fellow looked up seriously into her face and asked, "Ma, did Jonah wear his slippers in the whale's belly? Because, if he didna, the tackets in his boots wad tear a' its puddin's." *****************
A father once said to a little boy, not so obedient as might be desired, "Everything I say to you goes in at one ear and out at the other." "Is that what little boys has two ears for, daddy?" asked the child, quite innocently. *****************Engaging his tender "hopeful" in the wonders of astronomy—"Men have learned the distances of the stars," observed the father; "and, with their spectroscopes, found out what they are made of." "Yes," responded the boy admiringly; "and isn't it strange, pa, how they found out their names too!"
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