My mom told me this joke yesterday

before going to sit with her mom:

A man dies and goes to heaven. Peter at the Gate says, "Hi, to get in you have to spell a word." The man says, "Nuts, I was never good at spelling." St. Peter says, no problem, you just have to spell "LOVE." The man spells it, presto bingo, he's on the golden streets.

A few year's later the man's wife dies and shows up at the Pearly Gates. The guy goes to meet her there and reunite. It's tearful. "How was everything after I died," the guy says.

"Oh, it was great," she says. "I met the nicest man. We travelled a lot and talked late into the nights and the sex was amazing."

Then the man's all, "Hey, great, did you know you have to spell a word to get in here? Yep. Spell Czechoslovakia."