A woman, recently bereaved, was visiting her late husband in the chapel of rest.
The undertaker noticed she was visibly distressed (more than one would even expect if one's husband had died). He asked her what was wrong.
"Well", said the woman, "You've made such a lovely job of George, and he looks so peaceful, that its quite beautiful. But he's wearing that horrible green suit. I hate that suit - he never looked anything in it."
"That's not a problem, madam - do you have any other suits? We could soon change it".
The woman admitted that her daughter had, just the day before, taken all her late husband's clothes to Oxfam, so that she wouldn't be faced with the task after the funeral.
"Don't worry madam, leave it with us. We'll sort something out", said the undertaker.
On the day of the funeral, the family gathered around for one last look at the deceased. He was dressed in an immaculate blue suit.
His wife was as delighted as someone who is just about to bury her husband could be.
After the service, the woman's son sought the undertaker out to say how much his mother had appreciated the change of suit. How had the undertaker managed to find a suit that fitted so perfectly?
"We had a stroke of luck," he explained. "Just after your mum left us, a chap was brought in who was about the same size and height as your dad. He was wearing a much nicer suit than the green one your mum hated so mauch. So after that, it was just a simple matter of swapping the heads and hands over".
