A banker saw his old friend Tom, an eighty-year-old rancher, in town. Tom had lost his wife a year or so before and rumour had it that he was marrying a “mail-order” bride. Being a good friend, the banker asked Tom if the rumour was true. Tom assured him that it was.

The banker then asked Tom the age of his new bride to be. Tom proudly said,

“She’ll be twenty-one in November.”

Now the banker, being the wise man that he was, could see that the sexual appetite of a young woman could not be satisfied by an eighty-year-old man. Wanting his old friend’s remaining years to be happy the banker tactfully suggested that Tom should consider getting a hired hand to help him out on the ranch, knowing nature would take its own course.

Tom thought this was a good idea and said he would look for one that afternoon.

About four months later, the banker ran into Tom in town again.

“How’s the new wife?”, asked the banker.

Tom proudly said, “Good – she’s pregnant.”

The banker, happy that his sage advice had worked out, continued,

“And how’s the hired hand?”

Without hesitating, Tom said,

“She’s pregnant too.”

Don’t ever underestimate us old Geezers.