A husband had been married for 25 years his beautiful wife, he had a perfect life with 4 boys. 3 of those boys were full of muscle, they were handsome and brave. The only problem was the fourth boy. He was short and scrawny, and just about completely opposite to his siblings. One day the husband was diagnosed with cancer, he did not have long to live at all. It was a tradition at that particular time for a wife to tell her husband the truth at his death bed. As the husband spoke in wimpering words, as the colour of his face turned completely pale, he said to his darling wife "That boy at the end of the bed, the scrawny one, is he really our son?"

"Yes." Replied the wife, "Honest to god, he is your own flesh and blood."

The husband then closed his eyes and died.

The wife then whiped her forehead in relief as she murmured "Thank God he didn't ask about the other 3"

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