Little girl comes down a country path pulling a great big bull. A farmer coming the other way says, “What are you doing?” “I’m taking this bull down to the cows so he can mate with them.” “Well, can’t your father do that?” “No . . . it’s gotta’ be a bull.”
SOCIAL WORKER: Wow, are they all yours?
WELFARE MOTHER: Yep, they are all mine, I've heard that question a thousand times before.
SOCIAL WORKER: Well, then you must be here to sign up. I'll need all your children's names.
WELFARE MOTHER: That’s easy. To keep it simple, the boys are all named 'Terry' and the girls are all named 'Terri'.
SOCIAL WORKER: (stares in disbelief) Are you serious? They're all named 'Terry'?
WELFARE MOTHER: Yes - it makes it easier. when its time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yell, 'Terry!' and when it's time for dinner, I just yell 'Terry!' and they all come running. And if I need to stop the kid who's running into the street, I just yell 'Terry!' and all of them stop in their tracks. It's the smartest idea I ever had, naming them all 'Terry'.
SOCIAL WORKER: (thinks this over for a bit, then wrinkles her forehead) But what if you just want one kid to come, and not the whole bunch?
WELFARE MOTHER: Then I call them by their last names.