The Spiteful Corpse

My husband and I were visiting our son’s grave, when a funeral began nearby. It appeared that it was for an elderly man, his wife being helped from the limousine in tears and only a few mourners in attendance. It wasn’t a very long ceremony, but it was a hot day and the gravediggers were intent on getting their job done quickly as the mourners left the grave site. I leaned over to my husband, commenting discreetly, “You know, one of us has to die first, right?” His response was quick and not surprising. “After you”.