A woman walked into the city Centrelink office, trailed by fifteen children.

The social worker exclaimed, “WOW! Are they all yours?”

“Yeah, they’re all mine,” the exhausted mother sighed, having heard that question far too many times.

She called out, “Sit down, Terry!”

All fifteen children rushed to find seats.

The social worker blinked and said, “Well then, I’ll need all of your children’s names.”

“This one’s my oldest. His name is Terry.”

“Okay… and who’s next?”

“This one’s Terry too.”

The social worker raised an eyebrow but kept going.

One by one, the next four boys were introduced—all named Terry.

Then came the oldest girl. “And her name?”

“Terri.”

The social worker rubbed her temples and said, “Let me guess… they’re all named Terri or Terry?”

“Yep,” the mother replied. “Makes things easier. When it’s time to get up for school, I just yell ‘Terry!’ When it’s dinner time, I yell ‘Terry!’ and they all come runnin’.”

“And if one of ’em’s runnin’ into the street, I yell ‘Terry!’ and they all stop. Smartest idea I ever had.”

The social worker thought for a moment, then asked carefully, “But what if you just want one child, not all of them?”

The mother smiled and said, “Then I call ’em by their surnames!”