Loving Mother
By Three Jewish mothers are sitting on a bench talking about how much their sons love them.
Sadie says, “You know the Chagall painting hanging in my living room? My son, Arnold, bought that for me for my 75th birthday. What a good boy he is; he loves his mother.”
Minnie says, “You call that love? You know the Mercedes I just got for Mother’s Day? That’s from my son Bernie. What a doll.”
Shirley says “That’s nothing. You know my son Stanley? He’s in therapy with a psychoanalyst in Harley Street. Five session a week. And what does he talk about? Me.”
Sadie says, “You know the Chagall painting hanging in my living room? My son, Arnold, bought that for me for my 75th birthday. What a good boy he is; he loves his mother.”
Minnie says, “You call that love? You know the Mercedes I just got for Mother’s Day? That’s from my son Bernie. What a doll.”
Shirley says “That’s nothing. You know my son Stanley? He’s in therapy with a psychoanalyst in Harley Street. Five session a week. And what does he talk about? Me.”
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