My father’s mother always told this joke once a year and after she passed away, my father took over. It’s not the first week of March without it (and believe it or not, my grandmother’s birthday was March 5 and, had she lived, she would’ve been turning 97 tomorow).  Here’s the joke:

Question: What’s the soldier’s least favorite day of the year?

Answer: March fourth.

Yep. It’s lame but it’s a tradition. What can I say?