Angie's husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several weeks. Things looked grim, but she was by his bedside every single day. One day as he slipped back into consciousness, he motioned for her to come close to him. She pulled the chair close to the bed and leaned her ear close to be able to hear him.
"You know something" he whispered, his eyes filling with tears, "you have been with me through all the bad times. When I got fired, you stuck right beside me. When my business went under, there you were. When we lost the house, you were there. When I got shot in the rear end, you stuck with me. When my health started failing, you were still by my side. "And you know what?"
"What, dear?" she asked gently, smiling to herself.
"I'm beginning to think you're bad luck."