One morning during breakfast, Rivkah notices that her husband Maurice is unusually quiet. So she asks him, "Oy Maurice, why the silence? Normally I can't get you to stop talking during breakfast."

"It's just hit me hard Rivkah," he replies, "that I'm 60 years old and no longer a young man. So I've been doing a lot of thinking."

"So tell me already," she asks, "what great conclusion have you come to?"

"Well for one thing," he replies, "if I were to die suddenly in the not-too-distant future, I'd want you to immediately sell all my belongings."   

"That's a bit negative, isn't it Maurice?" replies Rivkah. "But in any case, why would you want me to sell all of your belongings?"

"Well I believe that not long after I die, you'd probably remarry. And I definitely don't want some shmuck using my things."

With a serious look on her face, Rivkah says, "So what makes you think that I would want to marry another shmuck?"