Routine tasks may become more complicated than they should. They can turn into something you didn’t expect.

 

You make plans, but then your wife tells you . . .

 

 

He’s My . . .

 

     Summer had just begun. The heat was unbearable. I sat at my desk, on Friday morning, staring at the calendar on my iMac. I’ve got to get the cars serviced, I thought. So I called and made an appointment for the following Friday.

     Friday arrived. I got up early, went into the kitchen for some juice, and called to Jane. “Jane let’s go. We’re going to be late for our 9:30 am appointment at the car dealership.”

     “I’m coming. I’ve got to get the tennis shoes I need to return to the Shoe Emporium at the mall.”

     “Does that take priority over getting the cars serviced?” She didn’t respond, and . . .

     “My cars going in first. Right?”

     “Yeah. Right.”

     “And we’re going to Madeleine’s Café for breakfast while they work on my car?”

     “That’s the plan, as we’ve always done. Then they’ll service my car.”

     “So after my car is finished, Don, I’m going to the mall.”

     “But what about me?”

     “You? What about you? You’ll just wait in the waiting area for your car to be finished.”

     “But what if it takes longer than I want it to?”

     “Then go with me to the mall.”

     “I don’t want to go to the mall. I want to go home and watch the baseball game. It starts at noon. Then the dealership will call me when my car is ready and you can drive me back to get it.”

     “What am I, your chauffeur?”

     “Well, no. But I thought you were my kind, loving wife.”

     “I was, but I’m not your servant.”

     “Was? You’re impossible, Jane.”

     “And you’re unreasonable, Don. Maybe it’s time for a divorce.”

     “Divorce? We’ve been married twenty-nine years. How can you think about a divorce?”

     “If not a divorce, will you give me a raise?”

     “A raise? You don’t work for me.”

     “I don’t? I’ll show you my job description.”

     “Job what?”

     “You heard me—job description—that is, cook, maid, waitress, seamstress, and sex provider . . .”

     “Sex what?”

     “Provider, my dear.”

     “I thought you enjoyed our bed fun.”

     “No comment.”

     “No . . . comment?”

     “That’s right.”

     “This conversation is getting out of hand, Jane.”

     “Then talk to my lawyer.”

     “You’re not serious, are you?”

     “Here’s his card?”

     “How long have you been seeing him?”

     “For over for six months.”

     “You’re kidding. Why so long?”

     “He’s my . . . sex provider!”

     

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Marriage is meant to be forever. But in many cases, it doesn’t last.

I felt I knew what to do. I had to be sure  . . .

 

 

You Heard, You Saw, And You Believed

 

I thought you heard, you saw, and you believed.

But by my very words, you were not deceived.

In truth, I wanted to tell you what I’d done.

However, I knew trying to do so wouldn’t be fun.

I wanted to run, but stood frozen in place.

Then I saw a smirk upon your face.

You looked me straight in the eyes,

And told me my cheating was no surprise.

You said your lawyer would be in touch with me

And our marriage and my money would be history.

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.

Relationships have their ups and downs. Sometimes you must make extraordinary efforts to make them work.

 

You ask your significant other for clarification so you can make things right. But the answer you get is bewildering: . . .

 

 

Do I Need To Say Anything More?

 

“Oh dear!” I screamed at my wife.

“I’m not sure what to do with the rest of my life.”

“Well,” she responded, “You’ll always have me as your partner in crime.”

“So, does that mean if I get caught, you’ll do the time?”

“Blame rests on both our shoulders, so if you’ll go along, that will be fine.”

“And if I don’t, will you out me to the cops, so the light in my world will no longer shine?”

 

“You’ll get what you deserve, my forever husband, the man of my dreams.”

“What I deserve is your complete faith in me, but you’re wavering, it seems.”

“You’ll have my faith, but first you must earn my trust.”

“So let me know how I need to behave, so I can do what I must.”

“You have to be perfect in every way and always walk a straight line.

I’ll draft an agreement you’ll have to sign.”

 

“I can’t believe what you’re saying and it makes absolutely no sense to me.”

“Then maybe our future together is clouding over and is not meant to be.”

“How can you say that? We’ve been married for more than twenty-five years.”

“Then agree to all my terms and conditions and don’t shed any tears.”

“But why does it always have to be your way?

Sometimes you have to listen to what I have to say.”

 

“What you have to say no longer plays a part in what I believe.”

“But we agreed to this relationship for better or worse, so don’t I deserve a reprieve?”

“A reprieve? Is that some sought of joke, when you did what you did to me?”

“Did what I did to you? I don’t know what you’re talking about? What can that be?”

“Look at my dead body lying on the floor by the door.

Do I need to say anything more?”

 

 

Copyright © 2024 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.