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Shmuel is a hoarder. He's been accumulating collectibles (or drek as his wife calls them) for many, many years. His study is full to overflowing with them. One night, as he and his wife Golda are going to sleep, Shmuel suddenly says to her, "I've been thinking, Golda."
"Does it hurt?" says Golda, smiling.
"If," continues Shmuel, "I were to suddenly die, God forbid, I would like you to do something for me."
"And what is that?" asks Golda, looking bored.
"I would want you to sell everything that I've collected over these past 20 years. Will you promise me that you'll do that?"
"But why would you want me to sell your drek .... I mean your collectibles?" asks Golda. "You've always told me how precious and important they all are."
"They are," says Shmuel. "But when I die, no doubt you'll immediately start looking for another man and that eventually you'll remarry him. And I wouldn't want some good for nothing holding my collectables in his grubby little hands."
"And what makes you think I'd want to marry another good for nothing?" says Golda.