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!
I Didn’t Tell My Husband’s Family I Speak Their Language, and It Helped Me Uncover a Shocking Secret about My Child

I thought I knew everything about my husband—until I overheard a shocking conversation between his mother and sister. When Peter finally confessed the secret he’d been hiding about our first child, my world shattered, and I was left questioning everything we had built together.
Peter and I had been married for three years. We met during a whirlwind summer, and everything just clicked. He was smart, funny, and kind, everything I’d ever wanted. When we found out I was pregnant with our first child a few months later, it felt like fate.

A photo of a happy couple | Source: Pexels
Now, we were expecting our second baby, and our lives seem pretty perfect. But things haven’t been as smooth as they appear.
I’m American, and Peter’s German. At first, the differences between us were exciting. When Peter’s job transferred him back to Germany, we moved there with our first child. I thought it would be a fresh start, but it wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped.

A man packing boxes | Source: Pexels
Germany was beautiful, and Peter was thrilled to be back in his home country. But I struggled. I missed my family and friends. And Peter’s family, well, they were… polite at best. His parents, Ingrid and Klaus, didn’t speak much English, but I understood more German than they realized.
At first, I didn’t mind the language barrier. I thought it would give me time to learn more German and blend in. But then, the comments started.

A successful woman | Source: Pexels
Peter’s family came over often, especially Ingrid and Peter’s sister, Klara. They would sit in the living room, chatting away in German. I’d be in the kitchen or tending to our child, pretending not to notice when their conversation shifted toward me.
“That dress… it doesn’t suit her at all,” Ingrid once said, not bothering to lower her voice.
“She’s gained so much weight with this pregnancy,” Klara added with a smirk.

A smirking woman | Source: Pexels
I’d look down at my swelling belly, my hands automatically smoothing over the fabric. Yes, I was pregnant, and yes, I’d gained weight, but their words still stung. They acted like I couldn’t understand them, and I never let on that I could. I didn’t want to cause a scene, and deep down, I wanted to see how far they’d go.
One afternoon, I overheard something that cut even deeper.

Two gossiping women | Source: Pexels
“She looks tired,” Ingrid remarked, pouring tea as Klara nodded. “I wonder how she’ll manage two children.”
Klara leaned in, lowering her voice a little. “I’m still not sure about that first baby. He doesn’t even look like Peter.”
I froze, standing just out of sight. I felt my stomach drop. They were talking about our son.
Ingrid sighed. “His red hair… it’s not from our side of the family.”
Klara chuckled. “Maybe she didn’t tell Peter everything.”

A chuckling woman | Source: Pexels
They both laughed softly, and I stood there, too stunned to move. How could they say that? I wanted to scream at them, tell them they were wrong, but I stayed quiet, my hands trembling. I didn’t know what to do.
The next visit after our second baby was born was the hardest. I was exhausted, trying to manage a newborn and our toddler. Ingrid and Klara arrived, offering smiles and congratulations, but I could tell something was off. They whispered to each other when they thought I wasn’t looking, and the tension in the air was thick.

Two women gossiping | Source: Pexels
As I sat feeding the baby in the other room, I heard them talking in hushed voices. I leaned closer to the door, listening.
“She still doesn’t know, does she?” Ingrid whispered.
Klara laughed softly. “Of course not. Peter never told her the truth about the first baby.”
My heart skipped a beat. The truth? About our first baby? What were they talking about?

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I felt my pulse quicken, and a cold wave of fear washed over me. I knew I shouldn’t listen, but I couldn’t help it. What could they mean? I needed to know more, but their voices faded as they moved to another room. I sat there, frozen, my mind racing.
What had Peter not told me? And what was this “truth” about our first child?

A thoughtful woman in her living room | Source: Midjourney
I stood up, my legs shaky, and called Peter into the kitchen. He came in, looking confused. I could barely keep my voice steady.
“Peter,” I whispered, “what is this about our first baby? What haven’t you told me?”
His face turned pale, his eyes widening in panic. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, he sighed heavily and sat down, burying his face in his hands.

A tired man in his kitchen | Source: Pexels
“There’s something you don’t know,” Peter looked up at me, guilt written all over his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, his eyes darting to the floor. “When you gave birth to our first…” He paused, taking a deep breath. “My family… they pressured me to get a paternity test.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. “A paternity test?” I repeated slowly, as if saying it out loud would help me understand. “Why? Why would they—?”

A shocked woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
“They thought… the timing was too close to when you ended your last relationship,” he said, his voice breaking. “And the red hair… They said the baby couldn’t be mine.”
I blinked, my head spinning. “So you took a test? Behind my back?”
Peter stood up, his hands shaking. “It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you! I never doubted you,” he said quickly. “But my family wouldn’t let it go. They were convinced something wasn’t right. They kept pushing me. I didn’t know how to make it stop.”

A shocked man looking up | Source: Pexels
“And what did the test say, Peter?” I asked, my voice rising. “What did it say?”
He swallowed hard, his eyes filled with regret. “It said… it said I wasn’t the father.”
The room felt like it was closing in on me. “What?” I whispered, struggling to breathe. “I never cheated on you! How could that—”

An upset woman in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
Peter stepped closer, desperate to explain. “It didn’t make sense to me, either. I know the baby is mine in every way that matters. But the test… it came back negative. My family didn’t believe me when I told them it was positive. I had to confess.”
I pulled away from him, my whole body shaking. “And you’ve believed it, too? For years? And you didn’t tell me? It has to be wrong!” I cried, feeling like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet. “We have to get another test! We have to—”

A heartbroken woman at her table | Source: Midjourney
Peter’s face crumpled as he reached for my hands, but I pulled them back. “How come you don’t see it?” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “The timing… We started dating so soon after you broke up with your ex. You must’ve fallen pregnant without even realizing it. The test didn’t change how I felt about you or our son. I didn’t care if he was mine. I wanted to be with you, so I accepted him readily.”

A sad man on the kitchen floor | Source: Pexels
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “You should’ve trusted me,” I said, my voice trembling. “I never even suspected that he wasn’t yours. Why would I? We’ve been raising him together. You’ve been his father. We could’ve handled this together, Peter, but instead, you lied to me. You kept this secret while I was living in the dark.”
“I know,” Peter whispered, his eyes filled with regret. “I was scared. But I wanted a family with you more than anything. My parents wouldn’t let it go, but I didn’t want you to think I doubted you. I never doubted you.”

A regretful man | Source: Midjourney
I took a step back, feeling like I couldn’t breathe. “I need some air.”
Peter reached out, but I turned away, walking out of the kitchen and into the cool night. The air hit my face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. How could he have done this? I thought about our son, how Peter had held him when he was born, how he’d loved him. None of that made sense with what he just told me. I felt betrayed, lost.

A crying woman | Source: Pexels
For a few minutes, I stood there, staring at the stars, trying to piece it all together. As much as I wanted to scream, to cry, I also knew Peter wasn’t a bad person. He was scared. His family had pushed him into this, and he’d made a terrible mistake by hiding it from me. But he’d still stayed by my side, by our son’s side, all these years. He had lied, but not out of cruelty.

A woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney
I wiped the tears from my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to go back inside. We couldn’t leave things like this. Not with our family on the line.
When I walked back into the kitchen, Peter was sitting at the table, his face buried in his hands again. He looked up when he heard me, his eyes red and swollen.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

A sad man sitting at the table | Source: Pexels
I took a deep breath and nodded. It would take time for me to fully heal from this, but I knew we couldn’t throw away everything we’d built. We had a family, and despite all of this, I still loved him.
“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered. “Together.”
If you liked this story, consider reading this one: When my husband said our daughter wasn’t “European” enough, I knew I had to act. I devised a plan to teach him a lesson, but as I watched his world crumble, I wondered if I’d gone too far.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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