Thread: Ukrainian Women -- Especially for Norts

An elderly Ukrainian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite pyrogy with fried onions wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.
He crawled downstairs and entered the kitchen. There, spread out on the kitchen table, were hundreds of his favourite pyrogies. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his wife of 60 years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
With a trembling hand he reached out to take one, when suddenly his wife appeared and smacked him with a wooden spoon.
F*k off,” she screamed, “those are for the funeral.”