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Terry

A  woman walks into the City Centralist office, trailed  by 15 kids .. “WOW,”  the social worker exclaims, “Are they ALL  yours?”

“Yeah,  they are all mine,” the flustered mother  sighs, having  heard that question a thousand times  before.

She says, “Sit down Terry.” All the  children rush to find  seats.

“Well,” says the social worker,  “then you must be here  to sign up. I’ll need all your children’s  names.”

“’This  one’s my oldest – he is Terry.”

“OK, and  who’s next?”

“Well,  this one, he is Terry, also.” The social  worker raises an eyebrow  but continues.

One by one, through the  oldest four,  all boys, all named Terry.

Then she is  introduced to the eldest  girl, named  Terri. “All right,” says the caseworker. “I’m  seeing a  pattern here. Are they ALL named  Terri?”

Their  Mother replied, “Well, yes – it makes  it easier.  When it is time to get them out of  bed and  ready for school, I yell, ‘Terry!’ An” when it’s  time for dinner, I just yell ‘Terry!’ an’  they all  come running.’

An’ if I need to stop the  kid who’s  running into the street, I just yell  ‘Terry and  all of them stop. It’s the smartest  idea I  ever had, naming’ them all  Terry.’

The  social worker thinks this over for a bit,  then wrinkles  her forehead and says tentatively, “But what  if you just want ONE kid to come, and  not the  whole bunch

“I call them by their surnames!”

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