Late Home, Again.
Once again I am in some deep doodoos at my place.
I was not home at my usual hour, and the "trouble and strife" was fuming, as the
clock ticked later and later.
Finally, about 3:00 AM she heard a noise at the front door, and as she stood at the top of the stairs, there I was, drunk as a skunk, trying to navigate the stairs.
'Do you realize what time it is," she said.
Not quite thinking straight, I answered, "Don't get excited, dearesht, I'm late because I bought shomething for the house."
Immediately her attitude changed, and as she ran down the stairs to meet me halfway, she asked, "What did you buy for the house, dear?"
I think my answer was the wrong one.
"A round of drinksh!"
3 comments:
I'm ghuessing the trouble and strife was not amused.
other halves are so unappreciative aren't they? We do our best to not get under their feet by staying in the pub and do they appreciate our efforts? Do they hell!
mmmm
There is, for a wastrel husband, only one thing worse than being misunderstood
und das ist
being well understood
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