“Where are you going?”, my wife asked. “Oh.”, I said sleeving my arm into my jacket, “I’m going to the college campus to hire a hot, young coed as my personal assistant.” My wife folded her arms and arched her eyebrow. “What?!”, I said pleadingly, “Do you see all this mess?” I waved my arms at the general disorder of the house. “If I had a personal assistant, we wouldn’t have any of this mess. So, win-win, see ya!” I hurried toward the door. “Get your ass back here.” My wife said flatly. “First of all, if we were to get a ‘personal assistant’, there’s no way in hell I would let you hire them. Second the personal assistant we hired would be called a maid and she would be old and third, you have lost your damn mind.”

She went into the kitchen. I flopped onto the couch, fuming. “You know what!” I yelled. “When I’m dead and gone, you’re going to realize my genius. But then it’ll be too late. Cause I’ll be dead. Then you’ll be sorry!”

“Uh huh”, she said as she rattled pots. “You keep it up and your ‘genius’ will be realized sooner than you think.”

I can’t stand her sometimes.