Two Middle East mothers were sitting in a cafe chatting over a bowl of tobouli and a pint of goats milk. The older of the two mothers pulls out a bag and begins flipping through photos, and they start reminiscing.
"This is my oldest son Mohammed. He would be 24 years old now."
"Yes, I remember him as a baby." says the other mother cheerfully.
"He's a Martyr now." confides Mum.
"Oh, so sad dear." says the other.
"And this is my second son Kalid, he would be 21."
"Oh, I remember him. He had such curly hair when he was born."
"He's a Martyr too." says Mum quietly.
"Oh Gracious me." says the other.
"And this is my third son, my baby. My beautiful Ahmed. He would be 18." she whispers.
"Yes" said the friend enthusiastically, "I remember when he started school."
"He is a Martyr too." whispers Mum, with tears in her eyes.
After a pause and a deep sigh, the other Muslim mother looks wistfully at the photo and says, "They Blow up so quickly, don't they."
