The Gates of Heaven

This is the joke I heard in the women’s locker room yesterday. It’s clean.

A man and woman had been married over forty-five years. For the most part, they had a rough time of it and just didn’t get along very well. Fought about things all the time. But they stuck it out in something which certainly could not be called marital bliss.

One day, after all this time, the woman died. She went to heaven and met St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. “Can I come in?” she asked.  “Well, yes,” replied the gatekeeper angel, “but first you have to spell something.”

“Ok,” she said. “What is it?

Love — said St Peter.

“L – O – V – E.”

“That’s right,” the angel said, “Come right on in.”

She stepped into heaven, took her first long look around, when St. Peter tapped her on the shoulder and asked, “Can you do me a favor and watch the gates for just a short while; I have an errand to run.”

She told St. Peter she wasn’t sure she would know what to do.

He said, “Oh, that’s easy, just wait by the gate and if anyone comes by, just do what I did for you.”

She thought she could handle that so she agreed and St. Peter took off.

When she turned around to the gate, she was surprised to see her husband standing on the other side.

“Oh hi,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I had a nice funeral and all for you and after it was all over, I was really tired and I just went home and went to bed,” he replied. “Then, I guess I must have died in my sleep, and here I am.”

“Can I come in?”

“Well, I guess you can,” she said. “But first you have to spell a word.”

“Ok, what is it?”

“Czechoslovakia!”