Thomas Stewart, married teacher

Thomas Stewart knew he had something on his hands as he finished reviewing the list of papers against the class roster to ensure that everyone's papers were turned in. A few of the boys had their papers turned in and he wondered, in part, if he should bother checking there versus Wikipedia. Two girls had their reports turned in that he knew he might as well just place in the shredder (they were literally written with crayon). For all of his education, Thomas didn't believe he would be to look at such things at his age.

"Long night grading again, Tom?" his wife Darlene drolled from her spot at the table and he merely smirked at her before turning back to looking at the stack next to him. She was equally up to her eyeballs in paperwork, though her job as a marketing analyst was much different than him being an english teacher. The two of them often competed at how dull their respective jobs were, she often won only because the world of Marketing for a woman was not as "progressive" as she had believed. At least he got to read, she mused, she couldn't even be creative when the men were often given more lucrative projects to work on. He had knowingly nodded, the life of a middle-aged woman in marketing was not for the faint of heart.

After a few more papers, in which he started to bemoan picking this week to give up drinking, Thomas looked up from his spot to find his wife snoring on the table, her mouth agape and a bit of drool rolling down the side of her face and onto the sheet in front of her. "So sexy..." he muttered before getting up and pulling the throw blanket from the couch. It was a few steps across their somewhat small living room and he put the blanket around her shoulders before he turned back to his chair and pulled out a paper.

"What the..."

IF YOU WERE A GIRL

That wasn't part of the assignment, he wondered how it got in there, and after searching through the rest of the papers to make sure nothing accidentally slipped into his stack of papers, Thomas turned back and looked at the packet in front of him. IT was printed on rather normal paper, a few lines per question on multiple sheets. Nothing that looked out of the ordinary about them, except for the types of questions they were asking, including the name of the quiz itself.

Not wanting to look at the rest of the dribble in front of him and hearing Darlene's snoring in the background, Thomas turned his attention to the first question on the sheet with a small smile.

1.) IF YOU WERE A GIRL...WOULD YOUR HANDWRITING BE NICE?