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Three older Jewish mothers were sitting on a park bench in Miami Beach talking
about (what else?) how much their sons love them.

Sadie said, "You know the Édouard Manet painting hanging in my living room? My
son, Irving, bought that for me for my 75th birthday. What a good boy he is, and
how much he loves his mother."

Bertha smiled and said, "You call that love? You know that new Cadillac I just got
for Mother's Day? That's from my son Bernie. Such a doll."

Golda, in turn, replied, "That's nothing. You know my son Stanley? He's in analysis
with a psychoanalyst on Park Avenue. Five sessions a week - and what does he talk
about? ME."

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