St. Patty's Joke 'o the Day

Old Sean lived alone in Ireland. He wanted to spade his potato garden,
but it was very hard work. His only son, Mick, who used to help him was
in an English prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and
described his predicament:

Dear Mick,
I am feeling a mite down because it looks like I won't be able to plant
me potato garden this year. I'm just getting too old to be digging up a
garden plot. If you were here, all my troubles would be over. I know
you would dig the plot for me.
Love, yer Dad

A few days later he received a letter from his son:

Dear Father,
For CHRIST'S SAKE, don't dig up the garden! That's where I buried all
them feckin' BODIES!
Love, Mick

At 4 A. M. the next morning, a dozen agents from Scotland Yard and
local police officers showed up and dug up the entire garden down to a
depth of about six feet. That evening, not finding any bodies, they
apologized to the old man and left.

Dear Father,
Go ahead and plant yer spuds now. It's the best I could do under the
circumstances.
Love, Mick