A man lies on his deathbed surrounded by his family, a weeping wife and four children.
Three of the children are tall, good-looking and athletic, but the fourth and the youngest is an ugly runt.
“Darling wife,” The husband whispers, “assure me that the youngest child really is mine. I want to know the truth before I die, I will forgive you if…”
The wife gently interrupts him. “Yes, my dearest, absolutely, no question, I swear on my mother’s grave that you are his father.”
The man dies happy.
The wife mutters under her breath, “Thank God he didn’t ask me about the other three!”