A man sat on a curb in heaven weeping inconsolably into his hands. Jesus walked by and saw this poor soul sobbing. "Why the tears and sadness in Paradise?" Jesus asked. "Oh. I don't weep for myself" answered the man "I weep for my son." "Your son?" asked Jesus "Tell my your story." "Well" began the man "He really isn't my son. I call him my son as I raised him as my own. I was a poor carpenter in a backwater town. I tried my best to bring him happiness and knowledge. But, he grew up, left town and had adventures on his own. We just drifted apart." Jesus became intrigued. "Tell me more! What did he look like?" The man said, "I remember him as a sweet, innocent boy and the last time I saw him he had holes in his hands and feet." Amazed, Jesus stroked the man's brow and gently asked "Joseph?" The man looked up through his tear drenched eyes and said "Pinnochio?"