SPOILIN’ THE BROTH
Neighbor Grover sez the irony of life is that by the time you’re old enough to know your way around, you’d rather not go anywhere. O ur theme today, it appears, is domestic issues, thanks to a couple of stories sent my way by two Reporter readers, men who wish to remain anonymous. I think you will understand the reason for this.
It has been several weeks since we’ve heard from our favorite Norwegian friends, Ole and Lena.
Well, or “vel,” it seems that Ole has been busy undergoing assertiveness training. His training manual contained a couple of chapters full of tips on how to be the “Man of the House.”
After studying both chapters, Ole, just brimming with assertiveness, approached Lena in the kitchen one morning and announced:
“From now on, Lena, you need to know dat I am da man of dis house and my vord iss da law. You vill prepare me a gourmet meal tonight, and vhen I'm finished eating my meal, you vill serve me a sumptuous dessert. After dinner, you are going to go upstairs vit me and, vell, you get da point.
“Later, you're going to draw me a batt so I can relax. You vill vash my back and towel me dry and bring me my robe. Den, you vill massage my feet and hands. Den tomorrow, guess who’s going to dress me and comb my hair?”
Without even looking up from cooking breakfast, Lena replied, “Da funeral director vould be my first guess, Ole.”
And, the second bit of foolishness goes like this:
A wife, being a romantic sort, sent her husband a text:
If you are sleeping, send me your dreams.
If you are laughing, send me your smile.
If you are eating, send me a bite.
If you are drinking send me a sip.
If you are crying, send me your tears. I love you!”
The husband, a typical ly non-romantic, texted this reply :
I am on the toilet. Please advise.
And still along domestic lines:
• Did you hear about the couple who divorced over religious differences? He thought he was God and she didn’t.
• It is said that any woman can have the body of a 25-year-old, as long as she buys him drinks.
• If you get tired of hearing your man whining about how you’re suffocating him, you’re not pressing hard enough on the pillow. firstname.lastname@example.org