“Where have ye been all this time?  Why did ye not write to us, not even a line?  Why didn’t ye call?  Can ye not understand what ye put your old mum through?”

 

The girl, crying, replies, “(sniff, sniff, sniff) … I became a prostitute.”

 

“Ye what?  Out of here, ye shameless harlot!  Sinner!  Yer a disgrace to this family!”

 

“Okay, dad, as you wish.  I just came back to give mum this luxurious fur coat, title deed to a ten-bedroom mansion, plus a savings certificate for five million dollars.

 

“For me little brother, this gold Rolex.  And, for ye, daddy, the sparkling new Mercedes limited-edition convertible that’s parked outside, plus a membership to the country club, and an invitation for ye all to spend New Year’s Eve on board my new yacht in the Riviera, and …”

 

“Now, what was it ye said ye had become?” says dad.

 

The girl, crying again, said, “(sniff, sniff) … a prostitute, dad.”

 

The father says, “Oh, my God, ye scared me half to death!  C’mere and give yer old man a hug.  I thought ye said Protestant!”