1. To maintain peace

If you are the insecure or possessive kinds, there are high chances that your partner deletes their messages and chat history.

2. To keep you and your relationship happy

Knowing how jealous some of us can get over the most trivial things, our partners sometimes go the length of emptying their chats and inbox so we have nothing to worry about when we get a hold of their phones. It’s not because they have anything to hide, they just don’t want us getting worked up over nothing. Oftentimes, people who do this would have had one or two jealousy-motivated run-ins with their partner.

3. Privacy purposes

Speaking of your partner checking the phone, which is totally not acceptable, privacy is one more legit reason why people delete their text messages and browser history. Whether or not they have flirted with someone else, your partner is entitled to basic privacy and space. They could be planning a surprise for you or might be helping a friend in tough times which you don’t need to know about.

4. They flirt

It’s still a big topic of discussion whether or not flirting passes as ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ too, although it must be said that there’s a big difference between them. One can flirt without touching or getting close to their subject. You can even flirt without knowing, but it’s not the same with ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. If you’re ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, it’s because you really want to do it. So yeah, people delete flirtatious chats and messages too so they don’t get in trouble.

5. Conceal their ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ

Had to put this last because it’s the commonest reason people actually delete their chats and messages. If they’re up to something shady, and they don’t want you to know, there’s no easier way to ensure that is the case than delete the message.

It is said that intelligent people are less social, and interestingly enough, their overall satisfaction seems to be unaffected by their more secluded way of life.

Do you consider yourself a loner? Are you happy with your way of life? Do you feel that society’s rhetoric that makes us feel that we need lots of people around us holds little to no truth? Do you prefer the silence of nature to the noisiness of the big city? Would you rather cuddle in bed with your other half or read a good book instead of being at a loud party? Do your parents worry that you don’t have enough friends?

If you see yourself in this, you have nothing to worry about.

Most of us already know, intelligent people tend to be more anxious than others and also are more likely to have social anxiety, as they are more perceptive than the average person.

However, according to a study published in the British Journal of Psychology, this often goes even a step further: highly intelligent people actually prefer their own company, and there’s a pretty interesting reason why.

First, what we know: the study explained that evolutionary psychologists have discovered a link between frequent social interaction and reduced life satisfaction in people who are generally more intelligent.

They surveyed adults between the ages of 18 and 28 and found that people who lived in more densely populated areas reported lower levels of happiness, and the same was true when people had more frequent socialization with friends.

The study proposes the idea that “Savannah theory” is at the root of modern happiness — or that the things that inherently make us happy are as true now as they were at the dawn of civilization.

The idea is that smarter individuals are better able to adapt to the challenges of modern living, and are more willing to “leave the group” to forge ahead with their own, more fulfilling lives.

Basically: Intelligent people prefer to socialize less because they do not need that feeling of tribal belonging to find meaning in their lives. 

In facT, they’re the ones who, when confronted with the choice between “belonging” and forging their own path, are more likely to choose to go their own way.

So according to this theory, our hunter-gatherer’s brains were perfectly adapted to life as it was back then, where the population would have been smaller, and we would have existed in groups of around 150 people each.

Social interaction would have been crucial to survive. It is that ability to adapt that marks an intelligent person. In the past, a superior human would have been able to follow their instincts best — today, a superior human is best able to forge their own future as opposed to just adhering to the group.

Backing this up is the fact that self-reported happiness is often greater in smaller towns than in bigger cities, which has been called in the past the “urban-rural happiness gradient.”

This could be due to many factors, but it’s likely most due to the fact that people thrive in smaller circles, and more intimate, genuine connections. In a small town, there’s a sense of community and a sense of belonging.

You walk out to the deli in the morning and greet the same people, as opposed to feeling lost among the shuffle in a bigger city. Likewise, in a smaller town, the focus is on who you are and how you connect with others, as opposed to what you achieve or who you appear to be.

Intelligent people largely bypass this in favor of their own pursuits, but either way, the point remains: smart people (and happy people!) thrive in a few, close, genuine relationships.

Beloved country singer Ivana Pino Arellano, known as “La Rancherita de Chanco,” died in a tragic car accident on the M-80 road near Pelluhe, Chile, one day after her 32nd birthday. The car, which flipped over due to wet conditions, left Arellano dead at the scene and her passenger seriously injured.

Pictures of the crash show the badly damaged vehicle lying on its side against a wall, covered by an orange tarp. Arellano, a rising star and mother of four, was celebrated for blending traditional Latin American sounds with modern styles.

The Municipality of Chanco confirmed her death, stating, “Ivana personified the spirit of public service with passion and love.” They added, “Your departure leaves a void impossible to fill, but your legacy will endure through time.”

Her funeral took place on June 17 at Curanipe Parish Cemetery, attended by family, friends, and fans. The Municipality of Chanco expressed gratitude, saying, “Thank you, Ivana, for giving us days full of light and peace.”

A man asked his wife what she wanted for her 40th birthday. “I’d like to be six again,” she replied.

On the morning of her birthday, he woke her up early and they went to a local amusement park. What a day! He took her on every ride in the park: D_eath Slide, Scream Loop, Wall of Horror, everything! Wow! Five hours later, dizzy and sick to his stomach, he staggered out of the amusement park.

Finally, she returned home with her husband and collapsed on the bed. Her husband leaned over and asked her affectionately: “So, honey, what was it like to be six years old again?” The woman looked up wearily and said; “You fool, I meant my dress size.”

The moral of the story is this: If a woman speaks and a man is really listening, he will still misunderstand.

A senior couple decides to try via***” for the first time ever. They have an incredible night together.
In the morning, the wife asks her husband at breakfast time.”Would you like some bacon and eggs, a slice of toast, and maybe some grapefruit juice and coffee?”He declines. “Thanks for asking, but, l’m not hungry right now.

It’s this Via***” he says. “It’s really taken the edge off my appetite.” At lunchtime, she asks him if he’d like something.How about a bowl of soup. homemade muffins, or a cheese sandwich?”

He declines. “The Via”*** ” he says, “really trashes my desire for food.” Come dinner time, she asks if he wants anything to eat. “Would you like a juicy rib-eye steak and some scrumptious apple pie? Or maybe a rotisserie chicken or tasty stir fry?”He declines again.

“No?” he says. “it’s got to be the Via***. I’m still not hungry.” “Well.” she says.”Would you mind letting me up? I’m starving!”

When my son Daniel approached me to become a full-time caregiver for his son Lucas, much like I had been for my older son’s daughter, it initially felt like an imposition on my kindness. Little did he know, this request would spark a dialogue that would unveil hidden talents and unexpected opportunities, dramatically reshaping our lives in ways none of us could have foreseen.
Lightning isn’t supposed to strike the same place twice, yet life, in its unpredictable rhythm, often dances to its own thunderous beats. My name is Evelyn, and I thought my days of unexpected challenges were well behind me.

Yet here I am, standing at a familiar crossroads. My oldest son, Michael, was just sixteen when he timidly approached me, his future unraveling before him—his girlfriend was pregnant. After her parents learned she was expectant, they threw her out.

With no place else to go, she moved in with us, only to leave her newborn daughter behind when she reconciled with her own parents.

Emma’s arrival was a beacon of new responsibilities, wrapped in the warm glow of a newborn’s innocence. Determined to help Michael out, my husband, Richard, and I stepped up and raised Emma while he finished school and started his career.

We strived through the complexities of daycare and stepped in whenever life threw a curveball—be it illness or unexpected school events.

Yet, the heart of today’s story isn’t about Michael, but rather my younger son, Daniel. At 35, married and well-settled, Daniel recently became a father to young Lucas. But as history whispers back to me in echoes, Daniel’s request took me by surprise.

Daniel and his wife Laura were eager to return to work, and they asked me to care for Lucas during the day. They believed that since I’d been through this before with Michael, I’d be the perfect person to help.

“I know you did it for Michael, and you were amazing. Couldn’t you help us out?” Daniel asked over the phone, hopeful yet unaware of the complexities his simple request unearthed.

I sighed, a mixture of affection and hesitation mingling in my thoughts. “Daniel, that was a different time. Also, you are a married man with a wife by your side, not a single 16-year-old with a baby.”

Daniel sounded disappointed, his voice a canvas of conflicting emotions. “But Mom, we really need your help. We’re not comfortable with daycare yet, and Laura’s parents aren’t available. We thought you’d want to.”

The conversation stretched into the evening, as we navigated through a sea of emotions and practicalities. I loved my grandson, that was certain, but the dynamics had shifted, and so had my capabilities.

It was a delicate dance of family needs and personal boundaries, one that needed careful steps and mutual understanding.

“Why don’t you come over, and we can talk about this in person,” I suggested. We planned a day for them to come over before hanging up.

When they arrived, I greeted them warmly, reinforcing my love for them and ensuring they knew my affection was unwavering.

Once we settled, the air thick with anticipation, I began with a calm but resolute voice, “I’m not the same person I was when your brother needed me.” I explained the realities of age and health that now framed my life.

“Back then, I didn’t have the physical limitations that I do now. Babysitting full-time isn’t feasible for me anymore.” The surprise in their eyes was evident, perhaps a reflection of how little they had considered my current circumstances.

Daniel started to interject, likely with plans and pleas prepared, but I raised my hand gently, signaling for him to pause. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, and while I can’t be the full-time caretaker, I’m willing to help in other ways. I can watch Lucas two days a week.”

I suggested this would give them some breathing room to find a daycare that fit their standards and needs for the remaining days.

There was a pause—a long, thoughtful one. Then, Laura, with eyes softening and perhaps a touch of guilt, thanked me. She admitted they had indeed taken my readiness to help for granted and apologized for the oversight.

Daniel, though clearly wrestling with the contours of our new reality, nodded in agreement, finally saying, “We’ll make it work, Mom. Thank you.”

The relief that washed over me as Daniel and Laura left with a plan was short-lived because soon after, the realities of finding a trusted daycare began to weigh heavily on them. While they appreciated my willingness to look after Lucas two days a week, the other three days remained a looming question.

One morning, as I was sharing these concerns over the phone with my longtime friend, Marianne, she interrupted me with unexpected news that felt like a gift.

“Evelyn, why didn’t you say something sooner? My daughter just opened a small daycare near your neighborhood. It’s perfect for families like Daniel’s who want a more personalized care setting. Why don’t you come by and see the place?”

Overwhelmed with gratitude, I arranged to visit the daycare with Daniel and Laura that weekend. Walking through the cozy, brightly colored rooms filled with children’s laughter, I could see the couple visibly relax and start to smile.

Later, as we sat down with Marianne’s daughter, I nudged the conversation forward. “So, this is the place Marianne was telling me about. It feels just right for Lucas, don’t you think?”

Laura, holding Lucas in her lap, nodded enthusiastically. “It’s wonderful. How did you find out about it, Evelyn?”

“I’ve known Marianne for years, and when she heard about our situation, she couldn’t wait to help. Her daughter, Lisa, runs this lovely place,” I explained, gesturing around at the art-filled walls and small book nooks.

Daniel, who had been quietly observing his surroundings, turned to Lisa. “What’s your approach with the little ones? We really want to make sure Lucas is not only safe but also learning and growing.”

Lisa, with a reassuring smile, dove into her philosophy of early education, which emphasized play-based learning and individual attention. “We believe each child is unique, and our goal is to cater to their individual needs and talents while making them feel at home.”

As the conversation unfolded, I saw the tension ease from Daniel’s shoulders. When Lisa finished, he looked at Laura, then at me, and said, “Mom, this feels right. I think we’ve found our answer.”

Laura squeezed my hand, her eyes gleaming with relief. “Thank you, Evelyn. This really means the world to us.”

As we walked out of the daycare, a sense of contentment settled over me. Not only had I managed to stand up for my needs, but I had also played a pivotal role in securing a joyful and safe environment for Lucas.

This solution, born from the community and connections I cherished, had indeed turned our arrangement into something even more beautiful.

Lucas and I developed a special bond during our days together, filled with laughter and learning, while his parents grew into their roles with increasing confidence.

As the days turned into weeks, and Lucas and I settled into our routine on the days he stayed with me, I began to notice something remarkable. Every time I played music, whether it was classical melodies from my old records or simple tunes from a children’s show on TV, Lucas’s attention was instantly captivated.

He didn’t just listen; his tiny body moved with an instinctive rhythm, his hands tapping, his feet kicking in time with the beats.

One afternoon, while Lucas was playing with some toy instruments I’d kept from my days as a music teacher, his joyous banging on a tiny keyboard transformed into deliberate, melodious presses of the keys. Watching him, a thought struck me—a realization that perhaps I was witnessing the budding of a natural talent.

Remembering my own passion for music and how teaching had always given me a profound sense of fulfillment, I made a decision. “Lucas, would you like Grandma to show you some fun with music?” His eager smile was all the confirmation I needed.

Over the next few months, our music sessions became a core part of our time together. I introduced him to different instruments, starting with a small piano and a set of percussion instruments. Lucas absorbed every lesson with astonishing speed, his enthusiasm never waning. His parents were delighted by his progress and encouraged us to continue.

One evening, as Laura came to pick Lucas up, she found us in the midst of an impromptu dance session, classical music swirling around us. Lucas was giggling, trying to mimic my steps. Laura paused at the door, watching us, a smile spreading across her face.

“Evelyn, I had no idea you were teaching him so much about music and dance!” she exclaimed once the music had stopped.

I chuckled, helping Lucas to calm down from his dance high. “Well, it seems he has a knack for it, and it’s truly a joy to teach him. He’s a quick learner, and who knows? We might have a future star on our hands.”

Unbeknownst to me, what had started as a challenging conversation about caregiving had blossomed into an opportunity that rekindled my passion for teaching and allowed me to play a pivotal role in nurturing my grandson’s burgeoning talents.

Lucas’s love for music and dance not only brought us closer but also allowed me to live a dream I thought had long passed—I was once again a music teacher, this time to a very special student.

Daniel later confessed, after watching a video of one of our sessions, “Mom, seeing you teach Lucas like this, it’s clear this turned out to be the best scenario for everyone. Thank you for stepping in, not just as his grandma, but as his first teacher in what might become his passion in life.”

This unexpected twist and the story of setting boundaries and finding a balance became a reminder that speaking up for oneself, even in family matters, can lead to unexpectedly wonderful outcomes.

Four men are in the hospital waiting room because their wives are having babies. 

A nurse goes up to the first guy and says, “Congratulations! You’re the father of twins.”

“That’s odd,” answers the man. “I work for the Minnesota Twins!”

A nurse says to the second guy, “Congratulations! You’re the father of triplets!”

“That’s weird,” answers the second man. “I work for the 3M company!”

A nurse tells the third man, “Congratulations! You’re the father of quadruplets!”

“That’s strange,” he answers. “I work for the Four Seasons hotel!”

The last man is groaning and banging his head against the wall. “What’s wrong?” the others ask.

“I work for 7 Up!”

Dear Wife,

I’m writing you this letter to tell you that I’m leaving you for good. I’ve been a good man to you in our seven years of marriage, and I have nothing to show for it.

These last two weeks have been tough for me. Your boss notified me that you quit your job today, and that was just too much to bear any longer.

Last week, you came home and didn’t even notice I had a new haircut, had cooked your favorite meal, and even wore a brand new pair of silk boxers. You ate in two minutes and went straight to sleep after watching all of your soaps. You don’t tell me you love me anymore; you don’t want sex or anything that connects us as husband and wife.

Either you’re cheating on me or you don’t love me anymore; whatever the case, it’s over and I am leaving.

Your EX-Husband P.S. Don’t try to find me. Your SISTER and I are moving away to West Virginia together! Have a great life!

---

Dear Ex-Husband,

Believe me, nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It’s true that you and I have been married for the past seven years, although a good man is a far cry from what you’ve been.

I watch my TV shows so much because they drown out your constant whining and griping, although that doesn’t seem to work.

I definitely noticed your haircut last week, but the first thing that came to mind was, ‘You look just like a girl!’ And since my mother raised me not to say anything if you can’t say something nice, I decided not to comment.

And when you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with my sister, because I stopped eating pork seven long years ago.

About those new silk boxers: I turned away from you because the $49.99 price tag was still on them, and I prayed it was a coincidence that my sister had just borrowed $50 from me that morning.

After all of this, I still loved you and felt we could make this work. So when I hit the lotto for 10 million dollars, I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Jamaica. But when I got home, you were gone.

Everything happens for a reason, I guess. I hope you have the fulfilling life you always wanted. My lawyer said that the letter you wrote ensures you won’t get a dime from me. So take care.

Signed, Your Ex-Wife, Rich as Hell & Free! P.S. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my sister Carla was born Carl. I hope that’s not a problem!

“Please come over and help me. I have a challenging jigsaw puzzle, and I can’t figure out how to get started.”

Her boyfriend asks,

“What is it supposed to be when it’s finished?”

The blonde replies,

“According to the picture on the box, it’s a rooster.”

Her boyfriend decides to go over and help with the puzzle. When he arrives, he sees puzzle pieces scattered all over the table. He takes a moment to examine the pieces and then looks at her with a smile,

“First of all, no matter how we try, these pieces won’t resemble a rooster. Secondly, let’s not stress about it. How about we have a nice cup of tea and… put all these Corn Flakes back in the box?”

In a compelling interview with Human Events’s Jack Posobiec, Michael Cassidy, the courageous Christian veteran who recently dismantled the Satanic Temples’ statue of Baphomet at the Iowa State Capitol, passionately urged his fellow Americans to reconsider their cultural values and reject the influence of Satan.

Cassidy’s call to action stems from his concern over the alarming response he has received. Astonishingly, he has encountered a wave of hate mail from individuals either sympathetic to Satanism or unwilling to acknowledge the malevolence associated with Satan, as well as the inappropriateness of displaying statues representing him in public spaces.

Addressing this mixed response, Cassidy shared, “I’ve received both positive and negative feedback, which has been quite remarkable. Some anonymous voices have applauded my firm stance against Satanism, recognizing the degradation in our society. That, in itself, has been heartening.”

However, Cassidy did not shy away from revealing the disturbing vitriol he has faced for his actions. He recounted, “I’ve also received a significant amount of hate mail from Satanists and their sympathizers. It’s astonishing – when I mention ‘hate mail,’ I mean hateful messages via fake Facebook accounts and Twitter trolls.”

Highlighting one particularly poignant example, Cassidy recounted a message from an infuriated father in Iowa who lamented that he could no longer share the satanic idol with his daughter. Cassidy shared, “I received a message from a father who was upset because the statue was no longer there. He had planned to show his daughter the statue of Satan that day.”

Cassidy firmly believes that the issue at hand is of paramount importance. He argues that the presence of icons and idols in public spaces can have far-reaching consequences, emphasizing the necessity of keeping them out of public view. He explained, “It’s crucial for people to realize the profound impact these icons can have on our society.”

Concluding his interview, Cassidy reiterated his simple yet heartfelt message: “I want people to reject Satan and embrace Jesus Christ. This should be the central message. It’s disheartening to witness a desire to expose children to such darkness.”

During the interview, Cassidy also stressed the importance of shaping the beliefs of the younger generation, emphasizing, “We must always focus on children because they are impressionable. If you can influence them at a young age, if you can instill certain beliefs in them, they will carry those beliefs throughout their lives.”

In a world where values are often tested, Michael Cassidy’s unwavering commitment to his faith serves as a powerful reminder to all Americans to reflect on their beliefs and consider the impact they have on the future of our society.

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