A social worker from a big city in Massachusetts recently transferred to the mountains of North Carolina and Georgia, and was on the first tour of her new territory when she came upon the tiniest cabin she had ever seen in her life. Intrigued, she went up and knocked on the door.
'Anybody home?' she asked.
'Yep,' came a kid's voice through the door.
'Is your father there?' asked the social worker.
'Pa? Nope, he left afore Ma came in,' said the kid.
'Well, is your mother there?' persisted the social worker.
'Ma? Nope, she left just afore I got here,' said the kid.
'But,' protested the social worker, 'are you never together as a family?'
'Sure, but not here,' said the kid through the door. 'This is the outhouse!'
'Anybody home?' she asked.
'Yep,' came a kid's voice through the door.
'Is your father there?' asked the social worker.
'Pa? Nope, he left afore Ma came in,' said the kid.
'Well, is your mother there?' persisted the social worker.
'Ma? Nope, she left just afore I got here,' said the kid.
'But,' protested the social worker, 'are you never together as a family?'
'Sure, but not here,' said the kid through the door. 'This is the outhouse!'
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