Here's to a lifetime supply of spaghetti:

This old guy named Ray live in one of those assisted living centers. A couple of times a week, after dinner, he would go out and sit on a bench on the front porch and watch the sunset.

After a few months, Sally, one of the female residents, started joining him on the bench. A few weeks after that, Sally said, timidly, “You know, Ray, it’s been a long time since my husband passed, how about you?” Ray told her that his wife had died years ago, too. “Well, Ray,” she went on, “if it wouldn’t make you too uncomfortable, would you mind if I held onto it while we sat here in the evenings?” Ray did a little double-take, but replied, “Sure, Sally, if it will make you fell better.” So for next three months, almost every evening, Sally and Ray would meet on the porch after dinner and watch the sun set.

One evening, Sally walked out onto the porch, but Ray was nowhere to be found. At first, she wasn’t worried, but as more time passed, she began to get concerned. Eventually, she walked back into the lobby and asked one of the staff if they’d Ray that evening. The orderly replied that he’d seen Ray, earlier, on the back porch sitting with Alice.

Sally was both embarrassed and angry, but she waited to confront Ray until the next morning at breakfast. Sure enough, he was sitting with Alice sharing a bran muffin. Sally could hardly contain herself as she strode up to the pair. She stopped right in front of Ray and asked, quite flatly, “Okay, Ray what’s Alice got that I don’t have?”

Ray, a little embarrassed himself, sheepishly replied, “Parkinson’s.”