Had it before? Almost certainly . . .
During the banquet celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary, Tom was asked to give his friends a brief account of the benefits of a marriage of such long duration. “Tell us Tom, just what is it you have learned from all those wonderful years with your wife?” an anonymous voice yelled from the back of the room.
Tom responded, “Well, I’ve learned that marriage is the best teacher of all. It teaches you loyalty, forbearance, self-restraint, meekness, forgiveness — and a great many other qualities you wouldn’t need if you had stayed single.”
For the first few months of her co-op job for the state of Georgia, my sister had nothing to do, so she surfed the Web or did crossword puzzles. One day she expressed her boredom to a co-worker.
“I know,” she complained. “Everyone thinks state workers have it easy. But there’s only so much you can pretend you’re doing.”
I remember my father telling me this joke once upon a time . . .
An American is visiting in France for several weeks. As his stay nears an end, he is sitting around with three of his new-found French friends shooting the breeze. The subject turns to language, and the American says, “Guys, I do have one question left. I keep hearing this expression, ‘sang froid’. What does it mean? I know that it literally means, ‘cold blood’, but how is it used?”
The first Frenchman replies, “Ah, zat is easy. Say that a man walks into his bedroom, only to find his wife in bed with his best friend. If he can turn around and walk out without them knowing he was evair zere, *zat* is sang froid!”
The second Frenchman interjected, “You have eet all wrong! If, in zis circumstance, zee gentleman can calmly stand zere, and say, ‘Please don’t mind me; continue’, zen *zat* is sang froid!”
“Non, non, non!” burst out the third. “If ze gentleman bursts een on his wife and his best friend, stands there saying, ‘Please continue’, and his friend *CAN* continue, *zat* is sang froid!”