Lockport Union-Sun & Journal — “Don’t you feel well?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“I see that you had the thermometer out. I was just wondering what’s up.”
“Oh! I’m all right, it’s the dog, Maggie. She was acting a little sluggish – I thought maybe she was sick. By the way, Kath, what’s a dog’s temperature supposed to be? Do you know?”
“Are you crazy!? You took the dog’s temperature with that? You expect me to use it after she slobbered all over the thing?”
“Oh relax!” I explained, “I didn’t stick it in her mouth.”
Things really started to go downhill after that. She was about as happy as my parents the day I told them I was quitting college to become a juggler. (I have this thing for bowling pins.)
I tried to change the subject and make her forget about my faux-pas — I asked her what she wanted for Christmas. Maybe by suggesting something she’d like, I could get her on a happier track – and make her flash that I-forgive-you smile. But, I should have known better. Guys, heed these words of warning: NEVER, EVER, say to your wife: I’ll bet you could use a cookbook.
“I’ll bet you could use a cookbook.” What am I? Nuts?
Well, at least I know what I can get Maggie for Christmas. I’ll get her one of those day-to-day calendars and put it in her doghouse. That way, I’ll be able to use it, too.
And that’s the way it looks from the Valley.