The Mother of All Jihadist Jokes

Two Middle Eastern mothers are sitting in a café chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint of goat’s milk.

The older one pulls out photos of her children and shows them to the younger one.

“This is my oldest son, Mujibar. He would have been 24 years old. He’s a martyr now.”

The other says, “Yes, I remember when he was young, so sorry for your loss”.

“And this is my second son, Khalid. He would have been 21” says the older mom.

“Oh yes, he had curly hair, I remember him” says the other mom.

“He’s a martyr now too”.

“Oh, so sad dear” says the younger mom.

“And this is my third son, my baby, my beautiful Ahmed. He would have 18.”

“Yes, I remember when he started school” says the younger one.

The older mom, with tears in her eyes, says, “He is a martyr now too.”

The younger one looks wistfully at the photographs and sighs deeply, searching for just the right comforting words, and says, “They blow up so fast, don’t they?”