That Explains It A Scottish mother visits her son in his New York City apartment and asks, “How do you find the Americans, Donald?” “Mother,” says Donald, “they’re such noisy people. One neighbor won’t stop banging his head against the wall, while the other screams and screams all night long.” “Oh, Donald! How do you manage to put up with them?” “What can I do? I just lie in bed quietly, playing my bagpipes.” — Q: What do you call a parade of rabbits hopping backwards? A: A receding hare-line. — While he was visiting, my father asked for the password to our Wi-Fi. “It’s taped under the keyboard,” I told him. After three failed attempts to log on, he asked, “Am I spelling this right? T-A-P-E-D-U-N-D-E-R-T-H-E-K-E-Y-B-O-A-R-D?” — Three friends from the local congregation were asked, “When you’re in your casket, and friends and congregation members are mourning over you,…