On his death bed, an old jew says to his wife:

Oh, Sarah, when the shop burned down you were right beside me, no? - Sure I was, Moshe.

When the Nazis drove us out of our beloved Deutschland you were beside me again, no? - I was, Moshe.

And now you're at my death bed, aren't you? - I am, darling.

I'm starting to think you're bad luck, Sarah.