Old John was on his deathbed. He raised himself on one elbow and beckoned to his wife. "Peggy", he whispered, "come closer!"
She wiped a tear and leaned in to hear his words. "You were with me through the Great Depression," he told her.
"Yes John," she said.
"Peggy, you were with me through the terrible droughts in the fifties and the eighties."
"Yes John."
"And you were with me when the farm got burned out by the brush fires in the nineties."
"Right," she said.
"And last year, you were still hanging in there with me when the bank foreclosed on our mortgage and we lost the farm."
"Yes John."
"And now, here you are with me today, when I'm just about to die."
Peggy nodded.
"You know Peggy, I'm starting to think you are nothing but bad luck!"
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