If weather is good, Nasruddin will plow; otherwise, he will gather wood. Say Inshallah, says his wife. I'm good either way says Nasruddin. He goes to plow, and soldiers dragoon him and make him take them to a village, and then it rains. He arrives home late, exhausted, and drenched. His wife says, Who's there? Nasruddin says: It is I, Inshallah.
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