The rabbi of a small village died and after some time the congregation decided the widow should remarry.
Given the size of the village there was only one possible candidate: the butcher.
Although not very excited because she was used to living with an intellectual, the widow agreed.
The wedding took place, and on Friday evening after the ritual bath, the butcher said, “My mother always told me that at the beginning of Shabbat you have to make love before going to the synagogue.”
So they did.
Returning from the service, he said, “According to my father, we have to make love before dinner.”
And they did it again.
As as he lay down to sleep, he said, “My grandfather always said that we have to make love on Shabbat night.”
And they did it again.
They finally fell asleep and the next mornin the butcher said, “My aunt says that a devout Jew always starts Shabbat by making love.”
And they did it again.
Later that morning the woman went to the synagogue and met a friend who asked, “How are things with your new husband?”
“Well, listen,” she replied. “He’s not much of an intellectual, but he comes from a really excellent family!”
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