A woman was standing next to the bed of her husband, who was terminally ill and had been bedbound for several weeks.  Standing around the bed with her were her six sons, all tall, musclar fellas except for the youngest one, who was shorter than average, very skinny and prone to regular bouts of illness.  The old man looked to be on death's door, and he beckoned his wife closer to him.  "Darling" he said in a hoarse voice, struggling to speak as his breathing became shallower "There's something I've always wanted to know but have felt uncomfortable about asking."

"What is it, honey?" asks his wife.

"It's about Joey" replies the old man, pointing to the skinny son at the end of the bed.  "The others are strong and tall, but not Joey....is he really my biological son?  Please....just tell me the truth....don't lie to me...."

"Yes, of course he is" replies his wife, looking her husband straight in the eye.  "I can truthfully say that you are definitely his biological father."

And with that a look of peace crossed the old man's face, and he took his last breath and passed away.  As the others started to file out of the room the old man's wife whispered under her breath "Thank God he didn't ask me about the other five!"