A Jewish boy was failing math.

His mother had tried everything. Special classes, private tutors and even a summer at a math camp. Nothing worked. Desperate, she decided to send her son to a Catholic school one of her friends had recommended.

The boy came home the first day, slammed his coat on the table, ran to his room and stayed there the entire night until it was time for bed. This continued for the entire semester. On the day of the next term, the boy came home as always, slammed his report card on the table with his coat, and proceeded upstairs. When the mother reviewed his report card, she was astonished to find he had gotten an A in math for the first time ever. Delighted, she ran upstairs to congratulate her son. She found him scribbling furiously in his notebook.

“Zach! You got an A! I’m so proud of you! Are the nuns really as good of teachers as Jodee said they were?”

“No.”

“Then what is it? How come you’ve gotten so good at math all of sudden?”

“Well mom, when I walked into that school and saw that poor man nailed the to the plus sign, I knew these Catholics were serious about this whole math thing.”