Paul was in a terrible motorcycle accident and his legs
weren’t in great shape, to say the least. After a couple of weeks of therapy,
it soon became clear to the Doctor that they were just pushing off the
inevitable. Due however to Paul’s frail condition, the Doctor was afraid to
give him the bad news. Instead, he gave
the sorry job to Paul’s wife of 40 years, hoping that she would know how to
break the bad news to him ever so slowly and gently.
So the next morning, Paul’s wife Vera said, “Honey, I’ve got
good news and bad news, which one would you like to hear first?” Paul, always
in a morbid state, responded in his usual grumpy voice, “What do I care? Just
give me the bad news!” And Vera cupping Paul’s hand with her two hands said, “Well
dear, I hate to have to tell you this, but it seems like your legs are going to
have to be taken off.” Barely able to hold his voice from cracking, croaked
out, “Vera, what’s the good news?” And happily, Vera said, “The good news is
that, the gardener that was in here just before, said he may be interested in
buying your slippers from you!”
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