A woman walks into a downtown welfare office, trailed by 15 children.

“Wow,” the social worker exclaims.”Are they all yours?”

“Yep, they’s all mine,” the flustered momma sighs, having heard that question a thousand times before. “Sit down, Leroy!” she shouts toward her brood. 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, Leroy, he’s my oldest,” the woman replies.

“OK, and who’s next?” asks the social worker.

“Well, this one here is Leroy too,” answers the woman.

The social worker raises an eyebrow but continues. And one by one, through the oldest four, all boys, the woman gives their names as “Leroy”. Then she introduces the eldest girl as “Leighroy”.

“All right,” says the caseworker, “I’m seeing a pattern here. Are you telling me they all are named ‘Leroy’?”

The woman replies, “Well, yes, it makes it easier. When it’s time to get them out of bed and ready for school, I yells,’Leroy!’ an’ they all gets up. An’ when it’s time for dinner, I just yells ‘Leroy!’ an’ they all comes a runnin’. An’ if I needs to stop a kid who’s running into the street, I just yells ‘Leroy!’ and they all stop. It’s the smartest idea I ever had, namin’ them all ‘Leroy’.”

The social worker momentarily ponders the apparent logic, then wrinkles her forehead and asks tentatively, “But what if you just want just one of them to come and not the whole bunch?”

“Well, then I calls them by their last names…”

Thanks Pat!