On his death bed, an old jew says to his wife:
— Oh, Sarah, when the shop burned down you were right beside me, no?
— Sure I was, Moshe.
— When the Nazis drove us out of our beloved Deutschland you were beside me again, no?
— I was, Moshe.
— And now you’re at my death bed, aren’t you?
— I am, darling.
— I’m starting to think you’re bad luck, Sarah.

• ✡️Jew