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Duck decoys, fishing rods, boots… Outdoor gear of all kinds was piled high in the garage. One day I found my wife staring at the mess.
“I hope I die first, so I don’t have to get rid of all this,” she sighed. “Look on the bright side,” I suggested. “If I go first, you can put an ad in the paper. When all the men come by to check out the stuff, you can pick out a replacement for me.” Still staring at the pile, she said, “Nah. He wouldn’t be my type.”
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