An Englishman, a Welshman, and a Pakistani meet in the waiting room at a hospital.
Over the course of a conversation, it becomes apparent that all three are expectant fathers, all are first-timers, and all their wives are in labour right at that very moment.
The three get talking and are getting on rather well when the doctor appears, looking a little bit flustered.
“Gentlemen, I’m pleased to say that all your wives have delivered healthy sons, my congratulations to all of you.
However, I’m afraid we do have a small problem. We’re a small hospital and we’re not used to the maternity ward being quite so busy- I’m afraid that the midwife forgot to label the cots. We don’t know whose is whose!”
The Pakistani gentlemen smiles and says “Well, I think I can probably pick mine out of the three, but you two have got a bit of a problem.”
“Nonsense!”, says the Welshman, “I can tell my own son! Come on, saesneg, we can sort this out between us.”
The Englishman reluctantly agrees, and the three troop off to the maternity ward. On arrival, the Englishman enters first and promptly returns with what is, very obviously, the Pakistani child.
The Pakistani fellow protests, as you would, to which the Englishman says:
“Sorry mate, but one of them in there is Welsh, and I’m not taking any chances!”