Reminds me of a story I used to tell about my mother (not true, of course). Seems that Mom had had child number 5 (I'm from a family of 7) and the doctor told her it would be unwise for her to have any more children, for the sake of her health. Mom said, "So how do I do this?" The doctor replied, "Sleep with your feet in a 10-gallon crock." Sure enough, a year goes by and Mom is back at the doctor's office for her yearly exam and he tells her she's pregnant. "Mrs. O'Connor, I told you to sleep with your feet in a 10-gallon crock!" She wept a moment and said, "I didn't have a ten-gallon crock, so I used two fives!" -----Original Message----- From: [email protected] <[email protected]> To: [email protected] <[email protected]> Date: Monday, May 10, 1999 1:53 PM Subject: Irish Population > >Mrs. O'Donovan was walking down O'Connell Street in Dublin, and coming >in the opposite direction was Father O'Rafferty. > >"Hello," said the Father, "and how's Mrs. O'Donovan, didn't I marry you >two years ago?" > >"You did that, Father." > >"And are there any little ones yet?" > >"No, not yet, Father." Said she. > >"Well now, I'm going to Rome next week, and I'll light a candle for you." > >"Thank-you, Father." And away she went. > >A few years later they met again. > >"Well now, Mrs. O'Donovan," said the Father, "how are you?" > >"Oh, very well," said she. > >"And tell me," he said, "have you any little ones yet?" > >"Oh yes, Father. I've had three sets of twins, and four singles -- ten in >all." > >"Now isn't that wonderful," he said "And how is your lovely husband?" > >"Oh," she said, "he's over in Rome to blow that bloody candle out!" >