Once at a dinner party, I listened to an Indian (from India, not Arizona) telling funny stories about his mother. I listened with interest for he looked thoroughly Indian, and finally I could no longer resist. I asked in mock amazement, "Is your mother Jewish?"
He looked at me quite calmly and said, "My friend, all mothers are Jewish."
Mrs. Wolowitz: Your wife says you have something important to tell me.
Howard: Okay. Here it is: Bernadette and I are starting a life together, and—
Mrs. Wolowitz: Oh, god! You are gonna leave me!
Mrs. Wolowitz: It's okay. Your father left me, you left me. I guess I'm just the kind of person people like to leave!
Howard: It's not... definite. I'll talk to Bernadette.
Mrs. Wolowitz: Don't bother! I'll just go sit in a hole in the ground so I'm no trouble when I die.