Sid was lying on his deathbed. Marty, his oldest, was at his side. His wife, Leah was in the kitchen, baking her famous ruggelach. The delicious smell drifted from the kitchen to the bedroom. Sid takes Marty’s hand and says to him, “Marty, be a good boy…go bring me one of Mama’s ruggelach, I should die a happy man with that taste on my tongue…”

So, Marty, being a good boy, goes into the kitchen and reaches for a ruggelach from the plate. Before Marty can even touch it, Mama slaps his hand away.

“Don’t touch those ruggelach!” she says to him.

“But Mama,” says Marty, “It’s for Papa. He only wants to have the taste of your baking on his lips when he dies.”

“Get out of here!!” she scolds, shooing him out. “They’re for the shiva!”