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Polish Woman

An elderly Polish man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death,

he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite pierogi with fried onions wafting up the


He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Gripping the railing

with both hands, he crawled downstairs. There, he leaned against the door frame, gazing

into the kitchen, where if not for death’s agony, he would have thought himself already in

heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were hundreds of his

favorite pierogi.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he

left this world as a happy man?

He threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched

lips parted, the wondrous taste of the pierogi was already in his mouth. With a trembling

hand he reached up to the edge of the table, when suddenly he was smacked with a wooden

spoon by his wife.

“Back off!” she said. “Those are for the funeral.”

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