Laughter is often said to be the best medicine, and for good reason! It brings joy, boosts our mood, and even prolongs our lives.
When a blonde woman greeted an older man with a bright, “T-G-I-F.” she had no idea it would lead to an unexpected exchange…
His hilarious reply not only caught her off guard but also turned an ordinary Friday into a moment of pure joy…. Curious about what he said that made her laugh so hard?
Keep reading to discover the punchline…
A businessman got on an elevator.
When he entered, there was a blonde already inside who greeted him with a bright, “T-G-I-F.”
He smiled at her and replied, “S-H-I-T.”
She looked puzzled and repeated, “T-G-I-F,” more slowly.
He again answered, “S-H-I-T.”
The blonde was trying to keep it friendly, so she smiled her biggest smile, and said as sweetly as possible, “T-G-I-F.”
The man smiled back at her and once again, “S-H-I-T.”
The exasperated blonde finally decided to explain. “‘T-G-I-F’ means ‘Thank God, It’s Friday!’ Get it, duuhhh?”
The man answered, “S-H-I-T means ‘Sorry, Honey, It’s Thursday’—duuhhh.”
BONUS: ANOTHER FUNNY STORY 👇🏻
A man was sick and tired of going to work every day while his wife stayed home.
He wanted her to see what he went through so he prayed: “Dear Lord: I go to work every day and put in eight hours while my wife merely stays at home. I want her to know what I go through. So, please allow her body to switch with mine for a day.”
God, in his infinite wisdom, granted the man’s wish. The next morning, sure enough, the man awoke as a woman… He arose, cooked breakfast for his mate, woke up his kids, set out their school clothes, fed them breakfast, packed their lunches, drove them to school, came home, and picked up the dry cleaning, took it to the cleaners, and stopped at the bank to make a deposit, went grocery shopping, then drove home to put away the groceries, paid the bills and balanced the check book. He cleaned the cat’s litter box and bathed the dog.
Then, it was already 1 p.m. and he hurried to make the beds, do the laundry, vacuum, dust, and sweep and mop the kitchen floor. He ran to the school to pick up the kids and got into an argument with them on the way home. He set out milk and cookies and got the kids organized to do their homework. Then, he set up the ironing board and watched TV while he did the ironing.
At 4:30, he began peeling potatoes and washing vegetables for salad, breaded the pork chops, and snapped fresh beans for supper. After supper, he cleaned the kitchen, ran the dishwasher, folded laundry, bathed the kids, and put them to bed. At 9 p.m., he was exhausted and, though his daily chores weren’t finished, he went to bed where he was expected to make love, which he managed to get through without complaint.
The next morning, he awoke and immediately knelt by the bed and said: “Lord, I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so wrong to envy my wife’s being able to stay home all day. Please, Oh! Please, let us trade back. Amen!”
The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, replied: “My son, I feel you have learned your lesson and I will be happy to change things back to the way they were. But you’ll have to wait nine months, though. You got pregnant last night.”
Why not share a laugh today? Whether it’s with a friend, family member, or even a stranger, let the laughter echo and brighten someone’s day.
After all, a shared laugh is a moment worth cherishing! If this story made you smile, don’t forget to share it with others—because everyone deserves a little humor in their lives!
My granddaughter evicted me for getting married at 80 – Unable to tolerate the disrespect, I decided to teach her a lesson
When my granddaughter threw me out after I got married at 80, I decided I couldn’t condone the disrespect. With my new husband, Harold, we devised a daring plan to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget, leading to a confrontation that would change our family forever.
I never thought I’d be telling this story, but here we are. My name is Margaret, and I turned 80 last spring. I lived in a cozy room in my granddaughter Ashley’s house. It was small, but I made it my own — filled it with memories and mementos from my past life.
“Morning, Grandma,” Ashley said one bright Saturday, barging into my room without knocking. She never knocked.
“Morning, dear,” I replied, folding my quilt. “What’s the rush?”
“We’re heading out to the park with the kids. Need anything?
“No, I’m fine. Go enjoy your day.”
She left in a hurry, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I couldn’t complain much — after all, I had sold my house to pay for her college. Her parents died in a car crash when she was just 15.
I took her in and did my best to give her a good life. Now she lived here with her husband, Brian, and their two children. Their home was spacious, lively, and often noisy.
Life took an interesting turn at the community center a few months back. I met Harold. He was charming, with a camera slung around his neck. We started talking, and before I knew it, I was looking forward to our meetings. It was like a second chance at love.
One afternoon, while Ashley was at work, I decided to share my news. I found her in the kitchen later that evening, pouring over some recipe book.
“Ashley, I have something to tell you,” I began.
She glanced up, “What’s up, Grandma?”
“I’ve met someone. His name is Harold, and… well, he proposed.”
She stared at me, eyebrows raised. “Proposed? As in marriage?”
“Yes,” I said, unable to hide my smile. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
Her reaction wasn’t what I expected. “Grandma, you’re 80. You’re too old for a wedding dress and all that. And Harold can’t move in here.”
I was taken aback. “Why not? We have plenty of space.”
“This is our home. We need our privacy.”
I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen. The next morning, she packed my belongings and set them by the door.
“Ashley, what are you doing?” I asked, tears welling up.
“You need to go, Grandma. Find somewhere else to live. Maybe Harold can take you in.”
I couldn’t believe it. After everything I had done for her — raising her, selling my house — she was kicking me out. I felt so betrayed as I stood there, looking at the boxes of my life packed up like unwanted clutter.
I didn’t have many options, so I called Harold. When I told him what happened, he was furious.
“She did what?” he shouted. “Margaret, get your things together, I’m coming to fetch you right now. You’re coming to stay with me.”
I hesitated. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden. You’re my future wife, and we’re in this together.”
With no other choice, I loaded my things into Harold’s car. As we drove away, I looked back at Ashley’s house, my heart heavy with disappointment.
At Harold’s, things felt different. He welcomed me with open arms, making me feel at home. We spent our days planning our future, but the hurt from Ashley’s betrayal lingered.
“We’ll teach her a lesson,” Harold said one evening, determination in his eyes. “She needs to understand respect.”
I didn’t know how we’d do it, but I trusted Harold. He had a way of making everything seem possible.
“Alright,” I agreed. “Let’s show her what we’re made of.”
And so, the plan began.
Harold and I spent countless evenings planning our next move. Harold, being a renowned photographer, had an idea to reach Ashley through her passion. She loved photography, and the annual local photographer’s gathering was something she wouldn’t miss for the world.
“Margaret,” Harold said one night, “I’ve got a ticket for the gathering. Ashley won’t be able to resist — I’ll courier the ticket to her, anonymously.”
I nodded, feeling excited. “Let’s do it.”
Before the gathering, Harold and I got married in a small, intimate ceremony.
Harold insisted on taking photographs. He captured my happiness and the glow of a second chance at love. The photos were breathtaking, showing the joy in my eyes and the love between us.
The day of the photography event arrived, and Ashley, as predicted, attended. She didn’t know we were behind her invitation. Harold and I stood backstage, waiting for our moment. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, but we were determined to see it through.
The host called Harold on stage to present his award-winning photographs. As Harold walked out, the room buzzed with admiration. Then, the portraits of me in my wedding dress appeared on the big screen.
Gasps filled the room as the audience saw the radiant joy on my face. The images were stunning, capturing not just the beauty of the moment, but the depth of emotion behind it.
Harold stated: “I found love at 79, proving age is just a number. Margaret, my beautiful wife, has a youthful spirit and a heart full of love.”
I could see Ashley in the front row, her face turning red with embarrassment. Harold handed me the microphone, and I stepped forward, my heart pounding.
“Good evening,” I started. “I want to tell you about sacrifices and love. When my granddaughter, Ashley’s, parents died, I sold my house to pay for her education. I raised her as my own. But recently, she forgot that love and respect.”
The audience was silent, their attention on me. “Ashley,” I continued, looking directly at her, “I still love you despite the hurt. But you needed to learn the value of respect.”
Ashley’s eyes filled with tears. She looked down, clearly feeling the weight of her actions.
Harold then spoke again, “Margaret and I decided to share our story to show that love and respect know no age. Family should be about support and understanding.”
The audience burst into applause, admiration evident in throughout the hall. After the event, Ashley approached us, tears streaming down her face.
“Grandma, Harold,” she began, her voice shaking, “I’m so sorry. I was wrong and disrespectful. Can you ever forgive me?”
Harold and I shared a glance before I pulled Ashley into a hug. “Of course, dear. We love you. We just needed you to understand.”
She invited us to a family dinner, promising to support my happiness and never take me for granted again. We accepted, hopeful for a new beginning.
That evening, we joined Ashley and her family. The atmosphere was warm, filled with genuine attempts to rebuild our relationships. Laughter and conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly at peace.
During dinner, Ashley turned to me. “Grandma, I didn’t realize how much I hurt you. I was selfish and ungrateful.”
“It’s okay, Ashley,” I said, placing my hand on hers. “What’s important is that we move forward together.”
Brian, Ashley’s husband, who had been mostly silent, chimed in: “We’re glad you’re happy, Margaret. Harold, you seem like a good man. We’re lucky to have you both in our lives.”
Harold smiled. “Thank you, Brian. We’re happy to be here.”
The children, sensing the positive change, started showing us their latest drawings and school projects. It was a joyous sight, a family coming together again. The warmth in the room was palpable, and I felt a renewed sense of belonging.
As the evening progressed, Harold shared more stories about our adventures and how we met. Ashley listened intently, occasionally wiping away tears. It was clear she was genuinely remorseful and wanted to make amends.
After dinner, as we sipped tea in the living room, Ashley turned to me again. “Grandma, I want you to move back in with us. We have plenty of space, and I promise things will be different.”
I looked at Harold, who nodded in agreement. “We appreciate the offer, Ashley, but Harold and I have our own place now. We’ll visit often, though.”
Ashley smiled, a bit sad but understanding. “I get it. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I assured her. “And so are you. That’s all that matters.”
As we left that night, the moon casting a gentle glow over everything, I reflected on the importance of self-love and standing up for oneself. Life’s unexpected joys often come when we least expect them.
And as I looked around the table, I felt grateful for the second chance at happiness and the family that, despite everything, remained dear to my heart.
Harold and I drove home in silence, both lost in our thoughts. When we finally arrived, he took my hand and said, “We did it, Margaret. We really did it.”
I smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment and relief. “Yes, we did. And it’s just the beginning.”
Harold kissed my hand, and we walked into our home, ready for whatever the future held. Our love and determination had taught Ashley a valuable lesson, and in turn, brought us all closer. It was a new chapter, filled with hope and endless possibilities.
What would you have done?
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